Free Will
by StevieCass
Summary: A guardian angel fails his mission and falls to Earth, only to fall again, for a guy this time. Will he make amends for his actions or give up his life and fall completely? Destiel/Sabriel fic, T for language. NaNoWriMo 2012.
1. Prologue

_A/N: This is the story I wrote for NaNoWriMo 2012, so it's finished already. I will upload one chapter every couple of days or so, though, so that you guys have time to catch up._

_It's based on an original story I'd half-written several years ago, with an angel named Serth in mind as the protagonist. He was falling in love with a girl who'd just lost her little sister, and generally it was really, really angsty. At first, I wanted to write this one, but then I thought that I should make the girl a guy because… I don't know. Because. But when I started writing it, I realised how ridiculously Destiel it was, so I said what the heck. _

_I didn't keep the horrible ending of my original story._

_Anyway… enjoy!)_

_**Prologue **_

The young angel remembered everything.

He guessed it was the fate of a being that had been alive since literally forever.

He remembered the Beginning, and the Creation. He remembered the birth of stars and planets and the Fall of the Adversary, and he remembered the Garden of Eden. He could easily recall the first steps of the first fish to walk out of water, the majestic reptiles ruling the Earth, and the apes turning into humans. He remembered Mount Olympus and the Pharaohs, and every religion that had come to pass. He remembered the sacrifices in the Aztec temples and the first fireworks in China. He remembered every war and every soldier that ever fell and every single thing that had ever happened in this Universe.

These things didn't matter. He preferred to focus on the ones that were really important.

He'd been the guardian of many a people throughout the millennia. They were born, and then they grew up and he was always there, keeping them safe until their time came. Then he took them and led them back home in Heaven, and made sure they were safe and happy.

Then he went back for a new start with another one of those wonderful little beings.

He remembered every face, every little detail. Their first cry as they entered this bizarre world, suddenly taken out from their mother's womb; the warm feeling of living inside them the first three years of their lives, storing their memories inside his mind instead of their own because this world is too scary and they'd be terrified if they'd have to face it alone so soon. He remembered every freckle, every hair, every eye colour, every birthmark, every scar, every line on their face as they grew older. He could bring back in his memory all the men, women and variations in-between. He remembered them all.

He remembered every expression on their spiritual faces the moment he took them to Heaven; how they suddenly recognised him. After their entire lives, they suddenly realised that they knew already that they had a guardian angel on their shoulder, and that they could touch and thank him for the first time. He remembered every reaction, every hug, every kiss, every friendly stroke, every nod, every tear. It was the only contact he'd had with them for millennia; a moment of touch before they were gone, and a "thank you", for being there for them all their lives and being the light in the end of their tunnel.

He was never tired of it. It was his duty, his job, his existence. Every time, he knew what was going to happen. Birth, life, death, thank you, and all over again. The same thing for millennia. The angel was content.

Until for once, the "thank you" didn't come.

It was his fault, the angel knew. He knew it then and he'd know it for the rest of time.

He knew that it would never go away.

All those years, the angel was there. That little voice in the back of every human's brain and very soul, telling them that something is or isn't dangerous; that was always him; him or one of his brothers. He knew it and he had perfected it; or, he thought he had.

The girl had never listened. The angel guessed it was what humans called "free will". She'd left home when she was seventeen in order to become an actress, but had ended up getting a low-paying job in a coffee house, to help her pay for law school. The angel never learnt exactly what she was doing there, or how her life worked – that wasn't his job. His job was to protect her, make sure she didn't fall inside a hole, she didn't choke on anything, she didn't do anything to threaten her life; not before her scheduled time, anyway. He rarely paid attention to anything else but her as an existence. That didn't mean he didn't like her; she had been strong-willed and witty, and by God, the angel thought, he'd missed taking care of a girl like that. He was really happy that in the 21st century girls like that were more than allowed; that they were even praised. But _she_ always did what she pleased. The angel remembered her ignoring his pleading that night… "Don't drink this much, Jessica. You're driving. Please stop. Please stop. Jessica. Jessica. Jess".

She had drunk. She was sad; she'd just broken up with her boyfriend, and the angel wasn't allowed to tell her that something better was coming for her. He wasn't allowed to throw the bottle off her hands. Again, it was all "free will's" fault, the angel thought regretfully. She had needed to make her own decisions.

She hadn't listened when the angel told her to wear a seatbelt. She hadn't listened when he told her not to go fast. She hadn't listened when he shouted at her to be careful; there was a truck coming towards her.

The angel felt it when her body broke. He mostly did because she'd been supposed to live for many more years. She wasn't supposed to go like that.

_I should have taken the wheel,_ the angel was thinking, again and again and again._ I should have scared her out of her wits and break the rules, and enter the material world for as long as it'd take me to steer her car out of the truck's way. I didn't. I don't know what stopped me. Was it that I was afraid she'd be even more scared and it would make things worse? Was I afraid to break my garrison's rules? _

_To this day, I don't know._

The point was that she was broken. And after nine days in the hospital, nine days of agony and pain, and after all of the angel's futile efforts to bring her back, she was gone.

And the angel had to face her.

She hadn't thanked him, the angel remembered. She'd only looked at him, suddenly knowing what she'd lost because of him. She knew she hadn't been supposed to go like that. _She suddenly knew she was supposed to meet a good guy and have a great life, and she knew it was my fault she wasn't going to have that, _the angel's mind kept repeating.

"Why?" she'd asked him. He hadn't known how to answer. He had no idea what to tell her.

She'd told him she was sorry. The angel didn't know if she had felt guilty for not taking care of herself after he'd put himself into all that trouble to keep her safe all those years, or she was just sorry for what was going to happen to him. He didn't even know if she knew. _But she was sorry. I know because at that moment, she was still a part of me and I a part of her. It was the last moment of that connection,_ the angel remembered.

He lost sight of her right after that. _She was taken from me. I knew she was going to heaven; she was a good person._ The angel hoped she'd finally find her comfort. But he couldn't afford to think about her, no matter how it hurt him; he had troubles of his own.

He heard the sound of his name crawling up to his ears as Uriel was coming for him. The hoarse, freezing voice of his superior was too familiar for him to hope there was something good coming; he had failed in his mission, after all. A guardian angel that can't guard his charge wasn't allowed to be a guardian angel anymore.

You failed, Uriel stated.

"I know", the young angel answered. He couldn't find anything else to say. There was no need. He knew what he had done, and so did Uriel. No need to blabber.

I'm really sorry, Uriel said.

The angel believed him. Several thousand years of being acquaintances makes two people, even two angels, start caring for each other.

"What will happen to me?" the young angel dared to ask.

The same thing that happens to everyone else.

"And what will happen to her?"

That's none of your business anymore.

"It is". The angel didn't know how he'd found the courage to talk back to his superior. "I killed her, Uriel. I need to know she'll be alright".

She will be. Now you need to leave this place.

"Where should I go?"

Where she was.

"For how long?"

For as long as it takes.

The young angel tried to convince himself that he was ready to face the consequences of his actions.

He wasn't. He would never be. He wouldn't ever admit it, though.

"What are you waiting for, then?"

Many an angel had been sent to Earth before him. None of those who'd come back to Heaven ever talked about it. They never looked each other in the eye and they seemed to glow less than the rest of the angels. Earth wasn't a place that did them any good, the young angel knew.

For a second, he panicked. He didn't want to go. He needed a second chance. One mistake throughout the millennia. One mistake. Jessica could decide whether he was guilty_. Wouldn't it only be fair if she would be the one to decide my fate?_

The angel didn't have much time to think about that. A crushing weight fell on him, and it took him a few terrifying moments to realise it was the effects of his existence becoming a part of the material world. He felt himself take a specific shape; it was uncomfortable, like a painful itch all over him. He felt heavy and restrained, and found himself having to work with limbs and organs and body functions he'd never had before. His eyesight was blurred by the bright light of Uriel's power; apparently human eyes weren't meant to withstand something like that. He felt his wings weaken and tuck themselves somewhere inside his back. He felt dizzy. His feet touched the ground softly, as if the Earth appeared under him on its own. Something wasn't working properly. He remembered what he knew about human bodies and inhaled; it was the best thing he'd ever felt for what seemed like ages. He opened his eyes slowly, carefully, but everything was still a red blur. He didn't know how much time had passed. Everything around him was solid and terrifying, and he knew it was about to get only worse.

Good luck, little brother, the angel heard Uriel's voice, and then there was only the sound of his wings beating in the wind as he left the young angel in the middle of a very ordinary street, in the middle of a very human town, in the middle of a very bad snowstorm.


	2. First Sight

"Hey, Dean! Come here for a minute!"

Dean sighed and threw the towel he was holding on an empty table. He swallowed his irritation, straightened his name tag on his red shirt and went into the small office in the back of the diner to face his boss.

"What is it, Bobby?"

Bobby Singer was a scary man when he wanted to be. He had a face that was just kind of the type that looked annoyed about everything, and he spent the most of his days fixing cars in his garage; he was such a workaholic that it was unbelievable how much time he was dedicating to the his old friend Ellen Harvelle's business. He helped so much that it was a second nature to the employees to consider him their boss; that meant that he was Dean's boss in both the diner and the garage he worked sometimes for some extra money, so they knew each other pretty well; well enough to be on a first-name basis. They rarely kept the formalities in front of the rest of the employees, and they had found themselves many times out for beers. Bobby was an old time friend of Dean's father, anyway, so he'd practically watch Dean and his brother Sam grow up.

At that moment, though, Dean would prefer to talk to nobody, and Bobby was sure to notice. He looked at him up and down.

"What's the matter with you, son?" Bobby asked, and made a gesture for Dean to sit down; He obeyed. "Did something happen?"

Dean shook his head; he wasn't ready to talk about it, especially not with his boss, no matter how close they were. He wasn't going to have Bobby worried about him.

"Don't ya shake your head on me, sonny", Bobby said, pointing a finger at Dean. "I watched your mother change your diapers and you change your brother's, and I've had you on my business for a while now; I know you. Ever since you took the day off two days ago, you look like somebody died. And you never showed up at the garage, either. What the hell is it?"

Dean felt a knot in his throat and a fire of rage started burning inside his chest. He cursed under his breath; he wouldn't act like a cry-baby, and he sure as hell wouldn't annoy others with his problems.

"I'll be fine, Bobby", he croaked. "I didn't want to cause you any trouble. I'll just work harder, if you're worried about my mood affecting the diner or the garage, okay?"

"Cut me the bullshit", Bobby spat out, much to Dean's surprise. "D'ya think it's work I'm worried about, boy? The place is empty tonight anyway. It's you I'm worried about. Ye look like shit".

Dean took a deep breath, but couldn't answer. What could he possibly say?

"Is it about yer girlfriend? Everything alright with you two?"

Dean felt like he was about to explode; did Bobby _have_ to have this cursed level of insight? "None of your damn business, Bobby", he hissed.

Much to Dean's annoyance, Bobby's hard look softened. "What happened, boy?" he asked quietly.

Damn. The man _really_ knew him. He wouldn't be able to keep it all inside. He took a deep breath.

"Well, I didn't manage to convince her. She went back to her parents".

Dean could tell it was genuine concern and sadness in Bobby's eyes, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"Crap… Son, I'm really sorry", said Bobby. "I thought she'd change her mind. Weren't you two almost about to get engaged like a couple of months ago?"

Dean swallowed with difficulty, trying to keep his voice steady – a lost battle, really. "Well, that's what I thought too", he managed to say. "Five fucking years, Bobby. I didn't deserve to be dumped like this, that's all I'm saying".

Before he even realised, Dean was clenching his fists on his legs. Damn. He'd promised to himself he wouldn't lose control while at work. He didn't want to get into details. He'd been with Nora on and off since he was eighteen and she seemed to be the one. He'd never expect he'd settle down, especially this early, but if it was to give up the single life and the pride of the tough, never-settling guy, it would be for her. He knew he was very young to think about stuff like that, but he didn't care. Nora was a great person and he'd want her to stick around. She was really cool, all about the people, all about the others. She'd defend people's rights naked on the street and then come and root for him in a belching contest at the bar. She'd dress up with the classiest dress anyone could own and then eat marshmallows off his navel in bed. She'd kiss a girl in a Pride Parade and then take him to watch the Phantom of the Opera in a theatre two states away. He never expected that person to freak out this much about his suspicions of him being bisexual. She reacted as if he'd slapped her across the face. He explained over and over that it wasn't that he didn't love her anymore, it was just that he'd started feeling that he could easily be turned on by men too. He didn't even think he could ever have a relationship with a dude; hell, before Nora he didn't even think he could have a relationship with a _girl_. He had never expected her to tell him she needed her time to think and that she wasn't sure she could cope with a guy who was turned on by the same naked pictures as her. She even asked him half-sympathetically, half-disgusted whether he'd like her to wear a strap-on in bed. He couldn't ever tell how he hadn't realised how much of an ignorant prick she was deep down. He kept telling himself that screw her, she wasn't worth it in the end.

That didn't mean he wasn't shocked and sad when she was finally gone, saying that she felt sorry for him for being scared of his true identity, which was "_obviously a fag so closeted he was about to find Narnia"._

Bobby sighed and put a strong hand on Dean's shoulder, taking him from his thoughts. "I'm really sorry, kid", he said. "D'ya wanna take the rest of the night off?"

Dean shook his head. "No, thank you, Bobby. I'll manage. I need something to keep my mind busy with".

"Are ya sure? I can do the rest of yer shift".

"I'm fine".

"Like shit you are", said Bobby, but in the end he sighed and nodded, leaning back on his chair. The office really didn't suit him. "Do whatever the hell ya like", he said. "I'll be here if ya need me. Off ya go".

Dean nodded, got up and left Ellen's office and Bobby's stare. He took a look at the almost empty diner; the only people in there were a girl with glasses reading a book while drinking tea (a very annoying tea to make, Dean remembered) and an old couple. None of them seemed to need anything for now, so Dean leaned on the bar and looked outside the window. It had already started snowing hard, and combined with the wind blowing, outside was a blurry mess. He tried not to think of how much Nora was waiting for this moment to sit at home and drink chocolate with a blanket and watch movies with him, before – her words, not his – _making sure they stayed warm the way she knew best_. It wouldn't do him any good now. He needed to focus on something else to keep calm.

That something else came on its own. He blinked as he saw the strange person outside. Holy hell, some people indeed were crazy. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but they were wearing no coat, no scarf, not anything to keep them warm. He couldn't help staring as the guy –oh, yes, it was a guy – seemed to look around nervously, trip on his feet and finally, open the diner door and walk in.

Dean's first thought was "blue". He couldn't find any other word to describe that man. He didn't know why; it just was the first word to cross his mind. He knew he should have thought of "white" but no. Blue.

Then the guy's eyes met his own and Dean held his breath; there was something scary inside them. They were big and very, very blue – could Dean's first impression have come from them? – and they were frightened, and Dean would be damned if they weren't hiding darkness inside. Dean would have thought that the rest of the man was strange enough, but his eyes… he forced himself to notice the rest of the guy's characteristics. Yes, he was right; no coat to keep him warm. He was tall, dressed in white, with just a plain long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants that didn't seem to fit very well. Dean realised he couldn't keep in his mind for long any other attribute but the colour of the guy's eyes; it was so intense that it was the only thing that made an impression. He did notice the snowflakes melting on the guy's hair as he stayed in the warmth of the diner. He was clinging tight to a small cotton satchel. He didn't look more than twenty-five, but Dean couldn't be sure. Something on him felt… wrong. Ageless, maybe. Like he didn't belong.

Finally, the strange guy took his eyes off of Dean and looked around. His look focused on the old couple and then the girl, and then he sat in a booth, carefully placing his satchel on his lap. His moves were hesitant, but flowing; he seemed to relax somehow, because he closed his eyes for a moment and then rubbed his arms, as if to regain sensation from the cold. Dean didn't know if he wanted to go and help him or throw salt behind his back.

In the end, he did what he had to: he went to the booth to take an order.

"Hello, welcome to the Roadhouse", he said and gave the guy one of his best fake smiles. "How can I help you?"

The stranger blinked and gave Dean a surprised look of disbelief that made him weak in the knees. He felt like his soul was being ripped to pieces.

"Help me?" the guy asked and Dean was surprised at the sound of his voice; he'd expected something quiet and fragile, not something so hoarse and low. "You want to help me?"

Well, that was awkward. Dean didn't lose his smile, though. He'd seen some weird crap before. "Yes, that's my job. What would you like me to bring you?"

The guy seemed to think about it a little bit. "Why would you want to bring me anything?" he asked in the end.

"Well, because this is a diner", said Dean patiently. How high was this guy? "People come here to eat. So I assumed that you wanted to eat something. You know. Like a normal person".

"I just came in here to protect myself from the snow". He turned his eyes to his hands. Then he looked like he remembered something and looked at Dean. "Thank you", he added.

"Well, you shouldn't walk around like this, pal", Dean commented. "Next time, wear a jacket or something. No wonder you were cold".

The guy frowned. "I didn't know it was going to be cold".

Dean snorted. "Man, it's freaking snowing. Did you think that—" he stopped. Who the fuck cared? "Look, it's none of my business. Do you want a coffee or something to keep you warm?"

"I—" the guy hesitated. He looked around again, like he was looking for something, and shifted in his seat. "I don't have any money. But thanks".

Dean frowned. The guy didn't look like he was high or drunk; Dean had seen enough of both to know them when he saw them. "You sure you're okay?" he asked.

The stranger made a sound between a laugh and a snort. It didn't suit him, Dean thought. "I'm far from okay, but I appreciate your concern".

"Can I do _anything_ for you?" Dean insisted. Yeap, definitely not a junkie. Just a guy going through some tough shit. Dean could relate. "Are you at least warm enough or do you want to sit under the air conditioning?"

"I'm quite alright, thank you", said the guy. Then Dean heard a brutal growl and the guy gasped, bringing his palms to his stomach.

Dean snorted. "Look, man, quit playing tough guy".

The stranger looked confused. "This has… never happened to me before".

"As if", Dean said. "No need to act all quality, alright? You're starving. Just wait a sec and I'll bring you something to eat".

"Wait", called the guy as Dean turned his back. "I thought I had to pay you for the meal".

"Traditionally, that's what happens, yeah", Dean agreed.

"But I told you, I can't pay you".

"Then consider this an early Christmas present from a not-so-secret Santa", Dean said and went back to the kitchen before the weird guy tried to stop him. He found Ash the cook talking with Jo, Ellen's daughter, who was about to start her shift as Dean's ended.

"Are you two busy back here?" Dean asked.

"Nope", said Ash and pushed a stray lock of hair back into the plastic cap he was wearing; he'd been refusing to get a haircut for as long as Dean had known him. "What do you want?"

"I need one—" he stopped and looked at his watch. "No, my shift will be over by the time you've got the food ready, so make that two cheeseburgers with extra fries for table four, one with extra onions, plus a cold beer, one shot of cognac and one of those crazy milkshakes you make. Oh, and pie. Double. Keep it from my pay check, as usual".

Dean didn't miss the look Jo and Ash exchanged. "What?" he asked, a little more harshly than he intended to.

"Dean, we know you're upset, but…" Jo started, "I don't know, you shouldn't drown your sorrows in a crazy diet. Things will get better".

"Yeah, man", Ash added. "Nora will snap out of it soon. No need to freak out. She still hasn't called?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Jesus Christ", he murmured. "First of all, you know nothing about Nora. Second, thanks for your interest, but it's none of your damn business how I deal with this crap. And third, it's not all for me, geniuses. I'm just buying someone dinner".

Damn, these two were spending much more time together than what was healthy. Their frown was identical. "Who?" asked Jo.

"A random dude, I don't know", said Dean impatiently. "The poor bastard is broke and freezing to death. So there. Can I have my damn cheeseburgers now?"

"Okay, okay", Ash gave up and put two of the big burgers in the grill, as Jo started making the milkshake. "No need to get cranky".

"Dude, you've seen nothing", commented Dean. He considered telling them the whole story about Nora for a moment, but in the end he decided it's not worth it. Not at that moment. Not with them already feeling sorry for him (he hated being the dumped one), and definitely not with a weird hungry dude outside waiting for food. It wasn't a good time.

In less than four minutes, everything was ready and Jo was helping Dean take the two trays of food to table four. The stranger hadn't moved; he was sitting still, looking out the window like his whole world had collapsed. Dean couldn't blame him. Sad blue eyes turned on him as he put the tray on the table and pushing it towards the guy, making room for the tray Jo was carrying. Jo gave a curious look, but she only smiled and left politely right afterwards.

Dean sat down, opposite to the strange guy. He put the shot of cognac, the milkshake and half the pie (well, maybe a tiny bit less than half the pie) on his tray.

"Knock yourself out", he encouraged him.

The guy frowned. "What?" he asked.

"I said, go ahead. Eat. Gobble it up. I swear I could hear your stomach grumbling from the kitchen", said Dean.

The guy looked at the tray like he hadn't come across food before in his life. "Thank you for this", he muttered.

"No problem", Dean reassured him, unwrapping his own burger.

The guy looked at him. "Why would you do something like that for someone you don't even know?" he asked.

Dean shrugged. Really, why was he doing this? "I don't know", he admitted, quite truthfully. "I guess I needed to do something good to make me feel better".

Was that a twitch of the tiniest sympathetic smile from the stranger?

"I know what you mean", he said. "I've been having a bad time too".

"I can see that", Dean commented. "Walking around on your own like this… What even happened to you, if you don't mind me asking? Did you get robbed?"

"No", the stranger answered simply and he took his burger in his hands, circling it, as if he was trying to remember the moves Dean used before to unwrap it.

"Ran away, then?" Dean insisted, and eyeballed him. "From a hospital, maybe?"

"It involved a hospital, but I didn't run away from anything", the stranger said as he took the wrap off his burger carefully, like he was trying not to rip it.

"Kicked out?" Dean suggested, guessing the guy's age, and there was a shadow passing from the other's eyes.

"You could say that", the guy mumbled.

"Wow, that sucks, man", Dean said. "I'm really sorry".

"You don't need to be", said the stranger, catching him off guard. "I deserved it".

"Nobody deserves this shit, man", said Dean. "No matter what you did, you don't deserve to be out in the snow like a freaking stray".

"Please, don't insist", the other guy cut him.

"Look, I'm just saying what pops in my head", said Dean. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but… I don't know. I don't think it's fair for anyone to live without a family".

The guy sighed. "What I did was unforgivable. I had to be sent away".

Dean suddenly felt angry. "I'm sorry, but this is bullshit. That's not what family is for. Family should stick together. Your folks are cruel, man. Besides, how old are you now?"

The stranger hesitated. "How old do I look?"

_God, what a chick_. "Um… twenty-five? Twenty-six at most".

"Then I'm twenty-six".

"Okay", Dean gave in. "Twenty-six, then. Aren't you a little too old to live with your parents anyway? Who needs them, right?"

The other guy sighed. He hesitated before he spoke, and Dean couldn't blame him; why would he want to tell his story to a stranger anyway?

He did go on, though. "My entire family sent me away", he admitted. "I'm not allowed to ever see them again, unless I've proven myself worthy".

Dean eyeballed him. "I hope as hell you're not LARPing some kind of sick version of Thor, because by God, I'm gonna smack your head into the wall".

The other guy looked confused. "I'm not sure I understand the language you're using", he said coldly. "And I don't answer well to violence". Dean blinked in surprise, but he shook it off.

"Sorry. Doesn't matter", he said. "But what you're saying doesn't even make sense. If you're not allowed to contact them, how are they ever going to find out if you're 'worthy', or whatever crap they told you?"

The guy's eyes seemed to darken. "Don't talk about them like that. You don't know what you're saying".

"Dude, it's black and white", Dean insisted. Honestly, why was he even putting so much effort into something that wasn't about him? "You're either a good family, or you're not. No matter how much you love them, that's the truth. Trust me, I've had my share of dysfunctional families and I know what it's like".

The guy remained silent and Dean wondered if he'd gone too far. He noticed that the guy hadn't even touched his food.

"Look, I'm sorry if I went out of my head, okay?" he said quietly. It wasn't the poor guy's fault he was angry at the rest of humanity. Besides, if he started doing something nice and screwed it up in the process, it would leave him with a bitter taste in his mouth. "I'm just angry when I think people are being mistreated, and damn, you seem to be having a crappy time. I didn't mean to insult you". He sighed. "You'd better eat. And drink that cognac, it'll warm you up".

"Thank you for your interest about my family, but I will deal with it", said the guy. "I appreciate your kindness, though", he went on and took the burger carefully. He looked at Dean questioningly, like he was asking how to eat it. Dean nodded without knowing why and the other guy took a bite. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh, Lord in Heaven", he muttered and Dean suddenly found himself wanting to genuinely laugh for the first time in weeks.

"What?" he asked, almost teasingly.

"This is incredible", the guy commented, with his mouth still full. "I never expected it to…" he paused. "I can feel it going down inside my body".

Dean was surprised himself that he actually laughed. "That hungry, huh?" he asked. "You should be, if you were so amazed by this burger here. It's good, but it would take something far better than this to get such a reaction from me".

"But it's…" the guy paused. "It's incredible", he repeated. "So many different flavours and they fit so well together, it's… it's brilliant".

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dude, you're acting like you've never had burgers before".

"Well, I haven't".

Okay, this was actual blasphemy. If Dean were a king in a fairy tale, he'd have just said "get him out of my sight!" or "off with his head!" or something like that, because damn, how can anyone live twenty-six years on this God's Earth and not have a burger?

"Man, what kind of family were you raised in?"

The other guy hesitated. "A… particularly strict one".

Dean nodded. Damn. Probably super-religious freaks or something. Who knows what perfectly normal thing the guy had done and they'd convinced him he needed to be punished.

"Look", he started, "this is a sign that you need to look at the bright side, okay? I mean, you haven't even had a freaking burger in your life? You're better off here. Now that you're away, you can do whatever you want. Eat burgers, listen to Led Zeppelin, have sex with as many girls as you like, or dudes, or whatever you're into, and basically start your life".

The blue-eyed guy thought about it for a moment. "Free will", he muttered.

Dean shrugged. "You could say that". He didn't know why, but he couldn't make fun of this particular person for talking like he was signing a formal application.

"Do you really think I could do it? Start a life on my own?" he asked, and Dean felt like the other guy actually valued his opinion; it didn't sound like a rhetorical question.

"Yeah, why not", he reassured the guy. "You look like a tough guy. Hell, you were out there with nothing but a shirt; you've got some balls. You can do anything you like. I know things are tough for you right now, but… I don't know, my brother says something that's kinda awesome, he says… 'when nothing goes right, go left'. It's quite cool, don't you think?"

"It's a wordplay", the guy said, as if he wasn't sure. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Of course it is, Legolas. The point is… no matter how tough things are, you need to work out a way to deal with them. Nothing's that difficult if you set your mind to it".

The guy gave him another soul-piercing look. "I wonder if you follow your own advice".

Dean felt like he'd been slapped right in the face. Hell yeah, that was a good piece of advice, and damn it, he probably needed to follow it too.

In the end, he just shook his head. He didn't know why he didn't snap at the guy. If it was anyone else, he probably would have. He just didn't want to, for whatever reason.

"Eh, following advice isn't really my thing, to be honest", he said. "I don't give good advice, either. That was all my brother talking".

"He sounds like a wise man", commented the guy and Dean snorted.

"Please. He's nineteen. But yeah, the little bastard is smart", he said, trying to sound annoyed, but even he managed to hear the tone of pride in his own voice. "Of course, 'little' is just a matter of speaking. I'm used to thinking of him like my little baby brother, but the truth is that he's even taller than me. Something must have gone very wrong in that monster's genes. Nobody should be allowed to be able to learn two languages in a year and be able to kick a smuggler's ass at the age of seventeen. It's just not fair to the rest of mankind".

The other guy looked at him for a moment, a hint of smile on his chapped lips. (Damn, why did Dean notice his lips?)

"You're so proud of him, aren't you?" he asked in the end.

Dean couldn't say no. Apparently, he was an open book to the guy. He shrugged. "Well, what can you do? He's turning into a great dude, you know. I'm happy to see that. I practically raised him, after our mum died. It's nice to see he's not damaged for life".

Shit, why was he saying all these things? He didn't even know the guy. Why was he pouring his heart out? Was it because he was trying to find anything else to talk about except Nora? Still, it was weird. He hadn't spoken this much about himself even to Jo, and he'd been working here with her for two years. And now there he was, confessing personal parts of his life to a random dude whose chances of being a junkie were, if you looked at it with a cold logic, over the top, and whose name remained a mystery, Dean remembered, as the guy gave him a half-smile.

"You are a good person, Dean", he said, and for a moment Dean wondered how the guy knew his name, before he remembered that he had his name tag still on. He definitely _didn't _blush.

"I'm full of crap, trust me", he said and the other guy frowned.

"You helped me when you had no obligation to", he said, interrupting Dean's thoughts. "This shows a good, pure character. I've seen my share of bad people and you, Dean, aren't one of them".

Dean felt his cheeks burn. Damn. He wouldn't let this happen. "Well, whatever", he quickly brushed the guy's comments off, as he looked at his watch. Sam was probably back from his workshop and Dean had totally forgotten the grocery shopping before getting back. "I'll have to head home, my shift is over. Do you have a place to stay for tonight?"

The guy looked surprised; Dean couldn't tell if it was because of the sudden realisation their talk was over or because of the question. "I…" he hesitated. "No, I don't".

"Alright", said Dean and he rubbed his hands together. "Wait here for a sec".

"Where are you going?"

"To take care of it".

"Take care of what?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna go ask my boss about finding you somewhere to sleep tonight, alright?" he said, talking slowly, like he was explaining how pi worked to a five-year-old. The guy blinked and leaned back on the booth couch.

"Why?" he asked, his expression looking genuinely puzzled.

"What do you mean, 'why'?" snapped Dean as his cheeks flushed. Why would someone want to analyse his motives? "I can't let you stay out in the snow! You'll freeze to death and I don't want any dead people in my ledger, okay? I'm not that inhuman. Now shut up and eat".

Okay, that really wasn't fair. Nobody should be allowed to look this much like a lost puppy. "I'm sorry I doubted you", the guy said quietly as he took the hamburger in his hands. "That was not my intention. I appreciate everything you've done for me. But I didn't think people did such things. You don't even know me".

Dean sighed. "What's your name?" he asked.

The guy looked at him like he was trying to remember, and Dean felt like he was waiting for a lifetime.

"James Novak", the guy said. "My name is… James Novak".

Dean nodded. He'd given enough fake names in his time to know how it felt the first time to be pretty sure the guy had given him an alias, but well, what could he do? He had to take what he was given. The guy might be hiding, who knew. "Okay", Dean said. James, then. I'm Dean Winchester, and I will be your host for tonight, how does that sound to you?"

The guy – James – half-smiled. "It sounds pleasant enough", he admitted.

"So now I know you", Dean reminded him. "Am I allowed to help you now?"

James seemed embarrassed. "Yes. Thank you", he said simply. Dean went back to Ellen's office, hoping to find Bobby still sitting there. He wasn't disappointed.

Bobby looked up from a pile of paperwork; for the garage, Dean assumed.

"How come you're still here, boy?" asked Bobby.

"I stuck around for some dinner", Dean explained. "Look, Bobby, can I ask you something?"

"Anything".

"That studio apartment that you've got next to mine and Sam's… it's still empty, right? I mean, you haven't rented it or anything since you gave me the keys, am I correct? You're still using it as a storage room."

Bobby frowned, clearly not getting where Dean was going with this. "Yeah, why?"

"Because there's a poor guy outside who's just been kicked out of home", Dean said, hoping James' story was true. "He needs a place to stay for the night. If he sleeps outside, he'll die of frostbite".

"And if he sleeps inside that mess, he'll die of friggin' cholera", Bobby answered. "That place has been inhabited and dusty for ages, boy, it'll take days to be made liveable again. It's just dust and old furniture. I've no idea what kind of crap are living in there".

Dean frowned. "So there's nothing that we could do?"

Bobby's lips formed a crooked line. "Nah, I don't think so. Not today, anyway. Who's the guy?"

Dean shrugged. "Never met him before. He doesn't even look familiar so I guess he's from out of town".

"Wait, you don' know him?" Bobby asked in disbelief.

"Nope", said Dean. "But I can't let him sleep outside, Bobby. I gotta help him".

Bobby sighed. "Sorry, kid", he said, looking disappointed. "I can't help right now. Maybe tomorrow morning I can move the shifts in the garage and go fix the place, but tonight there's no chance. Can't ya keep him in your place for the night?"

"What, like take him home?"

"Sure as hell", nodded Bobby. "Ya wanna help a stray, boy; you take care of it yourself".

Dean sighed. He didn't really like the idea, but Bobby was right. Besides, he and Sam were both agile and tough enough to kick James' ass in case he turned out to be a nutjob.

"Okay", he said in the end. "I'll take him home for tonight".

"Be careful, boy", Bobby reminded him and he nodded. He turned his back to leave and noticed two coats on the hangers on the wall. He turned back to Bobby.

"Are both of these yours?"

Bobby took a look. "Yeah, why?"

Dean hesitated. "Can I borrow one? I'll bring it back tomorrow".

If Bobby was surprised, he didn't show it. "Yeah, what the heck", he said. "Go ahead".

"Thanks, Bobby. See you tomorrow". Dean wore Bobby's coat as he left, keeping his own jacket in his hands.

He walked back into the main room of the diner to find Jo having started her shift already, and several guys having appeared in a couple of booths. He snorted with a crooked smile. Jo was indeed attractive, and there were many who had memorised her schedule. He wondered whether they should tell the other waitress, Ruby, to come work with Jo instead of him; the tips would definitely come in dozens.

He walked to the booth where James was sitting, and he noticed with a strange hint of satisfaction the food on his tray was gone, along with the cognac and the milkshake. He also noticed his small, almost empty satchel was sitting beside him now instead of his lap.

"Did you like the food?" he asked and James turned his head towards him, startled. The corners of his mouth formed a small smile.

"Yes, thank you", he said.

"You didn't really touch the pie", Dean observed, looking at the dessert, still whole except for a couple of small bites in the side.

"I tried it because I didn't want to insult you", said James, "but you seemed to appreciate it a lot, so I decided to keep it for you". Dean couldn't imagine how he ever thought this guy could be bad. He smiled and wrapped the pie in one of the diner towels to take home.

"You know what, Jimmy, you're actually pretty cool", he said. James frowned and tilted his head in a way that reminded Dean too much of a puppy.

"You called me _Jimmy_", he said, uncertainty almost touchable in his voice.

Dean's cheeks flushed again. "Yeah, sorry about that", he said. "I tend to give people nicknames they don't want".

"No, it's alright", James reassured him. "I've never had a nickname before".

Dean raised his eyebrows. "About time then, man", he commented. "Can I call you that?"

He received a nod.

"Okay. We should go now, though", Dean said.

"Go where?"

"My place", said Dean and threw Jimmy his leather jacket. He figured it would be better if he gave his own jacket to the random stranger he'd decided to keep than give him Bobby's. Jimmy took it and looked at it for a moment, then looked back on Dean, who rolled his eyes.

"Just wear it, okay? And then I'm taking you to my place to crash".

Jimmy wore the jacket obediently and Dean couldn't help noticing how much it suited him. He got up from his booth with an elegance that looked really natural on him, yet didn't fit someone who was wandering half-naked down the snowy streets. He looked at Dean almost apologetically as he picked up his satchel.

"Look, Dean… I don't want to cause you any trouble", he said. "You don't need to take care of me. You've already done enough".

"Oh, shut up", said Dean as he gave Jimmy a nudge to move towards the door and put his hands in his pockets. "I won't let you freeze. And you're shorter than both me and my brother, so you won't take up space", he reassured him. "Bye, guys!" he shouted as they approached the front door, receiving a wave from Jo and a couple of raised beer glasses from her admirers.

"Are you sure your brother won't mind me being there?" Jimmy asked, mimicking Dean's movements and hiding his hands deep in his pockets, as Dean pushed the door with his shoulder. They went out in the snow and Dean felt his cheeks go numb and tingly immediately.

"Nah, Sam's a neat guy", he said loudly to be heard above the sound of the wind. "He'll be cool with it, trust me".

"Thank you", Jimmy muttered again, and Dean just smiled.

"Look, stop thanking me for every single thing, okay?" he said. "I was in the mood to help you, so I did. End of story. Just enjoy it, don't feel guilty about it. You didn't ask me to do anything".

Jimmy gave him another little smile. "Agreed", he said. Dean wondered whether Jimmy was able to smile properly at all, but he decided this was enough for him for now. Besides, he had no idea what kind of baggage Jimmy was carrying; he probably needed his time before he was able to laugh again.

Dean led the way in silence, as the wind would just drown their words and freeze their mouths. He didn't complain when Jimmy pressed his shoulder for warmth against his own.

He resisted the urge to wrap his arm around Jimmy's shoulders.


	3. No Place Like Home

It turned out that Dean's brother, Sam, was indeed a very nice person. He didn't ask questions, even though Jimmy didn't miss a couple of questioning looks Sam gave his brother; Jimmy guessed a very deep relationship between those two, if they were able to communicate through their eyes. Sam didn't object to Jimmy's presence, he only smiled and asked Jimmy if he needed anything. Then he gave him a pair of sweatpants, an old T-shirt and a hoodie along with a couple of blankets, and made the small couch comfortable for him to sleep in. it was obvious they didn't have much room inside that small studio apartment; it was only a big room with a small kitchen inside it, a tiny bathroom and one bedroom, in which Sam was sleeping and keeping his stuff. Opposite to the couch there was an old TV set, and behind the couch there was a single bed, with a huge pile of clothes on it. The apartment was a mess, with magazines and books and clothes everywhere, but it somehow was really warm and welcoming. It was obvious Sam and Dean didn't have much money for something better, but this was definitely home. Jimmy was speechless; he had never expected so much kindness. Dean had told him to stop thanking him, though.

Never mind, he hadn't mentioned anything about not being allowed to thank Sam.

Jimmy approached Dean's little brother, who was fixing the cushions and the covers in the couch, while Dean was taking a shower. Dean hadn't been exaggerating when he described Sam, thought Jimmy. The kid was really, really tall. He had a child's face, in contrast to his well-built, athletic body. He had messy brown hair and kind hazel eyes that could make anyone trust him. Jimmy definitely did.

"Sam?" he called hesitantly.

Sam turned around. "Yeah?"

"I probably should listen to your brother…" Jimmy started, "but I wanted to thank you for keeping me here. You had no reason to. Anything I say won't be enough".

Sam laughed. "Don't worry, man. If Dean trusts you, then so do I. Besides, if I were in your shoes, I'd like to have someone to take me in. Last year I had this classmate, Amy, right? Her parents kicked her out when they found out she had a thing with a girl. She crashed here for some days, before she moved in with her girlfriend. Another classmate of mine, Andy, wasn't so lucky. His parents were super-religious and they freaked out when they discovered he'd missed church for like six months and had no intention of going back. They cut him off a month ago. The poor guy's desperate. Luckily his roommate's a cool guy and he's helping, but there's not much that he can do". Sam made a dismissive move with his hand. "Sorry, I'm blabbering. The point is, stuff like that happen all the time to young people, right? So when they happen, I think it's our responsibility to help. Me and Dean are lucky enough compared to others, so I guess we should make a little room for someone who needs it. That's all I'm saying".

Jimmy nodded, having run out of thank-you's. "I promise I'll pay you back someday", he said, but Sam half-laughed, half-snorted.

"Don't worry about it", he said. "We're not doing it to make you you owe us a favour". He listened carefully for a moment. "It seems Dean's finished with the shower. There are clean towels in the cupboard in the bathroom, if you want to hit it. That is, if _Dean hasn't used up_ _all the hot water_", Sam suggested, emphasizing the last sentence with most of the strength of his lungs.

The bathroom door opened and Dean came out, naked except for a towel around his waist. Jimmy noticed a strange amulet around Dean's neck and the few freckles on his shoulders, before he remembered that staring wasn't considered a polite thing to do and turned his eyes away.

"Up yours, Sammy", Dean said and Jimmy wondered what that meant. "This is my house and I have the right to use as much hot water as I want. There's enough for everyone".

"So how come there's none every time I hit the shower after you?" asked Sam, but Jimmy was sure his tone was teasing.

"We've got a guest tonight who's _not _my annoying little brother. I've no reason to torture the poor guy", Dean said, his tone also teasing, and when Jimmy looked at him, he winked.

Jimmy blushed and looked back to the clothes and satchel he was holding, as Sam rolled his eyes.

"You're impossible", Sam said. "Jimmy, you'd better go now before my ass of a brother changes his mind".

Jimmy nodded and headed to the bathroom, but in the middle he turned to look back at the brothers. He opened his mouth to say something, but—

"If you dare thank me again, I swear I'll smack you", Dean interrupted him before he even started. "We're past this. Just make yourself at home and stop worrying about it. We've got a spare toothbrush in the left cabinet. Jeez".

Jimmy closed his mouth and gave Dean a small smile. He nodded again and went to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. It was really, really small, he observed. This wasn't good.

He felt his back aching. He needed to stretch more than he needed air, but first things first. He walked up to the mirror, feeling a strange fluttering in his chest; he realised that his heart was beating faster than ever. It was quite unpleasant, he noted mentally.

The mirror was blurred. He was used to the sight of his long fingers by now, so he wasn't surprised at them when he raised a hand and cleared the steam off a part of the mirror to take a look at himself.

Huh. So that was what the rest of the world was seeing.

He brought his hand to his cheek, touching the soft skin and examining the lines it formed as he squeezed it lightly. His mouth was half-open in concentration, and he looked up close his full, pale lips, chapped by the cold. He stretched them over his teeth and made some faces to see what they could do, and licked his teeth a couple of times to get used to their shape. Then he put out his tongue, curious to see how long it was and what it could do – he'd seen people do weird things with it and he just wondered if he could, too. He pinched his nose and pushed its tip upwards, then frowned and wiggled his eyebrows a little bit. He noticed the shadows under his eyes; very blue, ancient eyes. He wasn't sure if he liked them; they seemed like they'd give him away. He passed his fingers through his dark hair and tugged it a little to see what it felt like. He tilted his head as he took in all the info.

So that was what Jimmy Novak looked like.

He took a deep breath and leaned over the sink, suddenly having the urge to smash the mirror with his fist. This was too much.

He felt a twitch inside his back. Panicking, he took off his shirt as quickly as possible and moaned in pain as two huge new limbs materialised, using up the flesh from his body for the first time. Horror took over him as he heard his bones cracking and creating themselves and changing shape, followed by the slippery sound of new-born muscles and tendons and nerves, and the gentle fluttering of delicate feathers of every possible size. Even breathing hurt; it was like a million knives were cutting him open _from the inside_. And then, it all stopped, as suddenly as it had begun.

He panted as he tried to spread his wings inside the small space – a failed attempt, really – and he pressed his ear against the door to see whether the brothers had heard anything. He frowned as he heard some talking about a patient whose eyes had popped out of her head when she'd come face to face with a very attractive doctor, but then he realised it was just a TV programme. He sighed in relief, even if a part of his brain remained puzzled about the reason anyone would not only create, but also watch a show like that.

He peeked at the mirror again, and even before he looked, he knew things were bad; he'd caught a glimpse of his feathers, even if he tried not to.

His wings were pitch black.

This was bad. They weren't supposed to be black. They looked… wrong. All angel wings were supposed to be white. He guessed it was a thing that came with his fall, but…

He felt his eyes burn and water when he thought about his fall, and wondered if it was a normal reaction for the human body. Not that he looked particularly human with those two huge appendages sprouting from his shoulderblades. This was an even worse punishment; if he'd been turned human, he could maybe deal with a human world. Now he was just an outsider. He had his wings, he had his powers, he had his memories; they were just weakened. He would have to let his wings manifest very often to save them from the pain of invisibility; there was no chance he could keep them in the immaterial world for long. Now that he was made of flesh and bone, so were they, and only his remaining powers kept them hidden; and they had shrunk with his transformation. They were but a mockery of what they used to be. He was sure he could still do several things, like heal someone who needed it or wipe a part of someone's memory, or keep his wings hidden, but he knew this wasn't going to last long. He was stuck like this and he'd have to deal with this parody of humanity for God knew how long. He wasn't human yet, but he definitely wasn't an angel anymore. This surreal half-terrestrial, half-ethereal limbo was bound to exhaust him very soon.

He couldn't do anything about it, though, except get used to it.

He spent some time examining and feeling every feather he could reach. He touched them all carefully, tugged some of them a couple of times to test their durability, passed his fingers through them, shuffled them (which he immediately regretted; it was the most disturbing physical sensation he'd ever felt, and he stroked his feathers back into place as fast as possible. The feeling still remained, and he promised himself he'd never mess with them again).

He took the rest of his clothes off and looked at the rest of his human body closely. It took him a while, but he didn't think the brothers noticed his absence; they seemed much occupied with the TV show. He had enough time to check his body's characteristics. It was a good body, that was for sure; his superiors had been kind to him. It was slim but strong, and he was surprised to find that it was really flexible; abnormally flexible, in fact. He could swear it had been a long time since he had seen a person being able to take the positions he could manage. He guessed it was a good thing.

He stepped in the shower with his wings still out. If he was going to start having human experiences, then he'd have as many as possible with his entire self. He let the water run for a moment and felt proud about himself when he remembered to check the temperature before he let the water pour on his naked body. He put himself under the water reluctantly at first, but then he decided it was really nice. The water was hot and all the coldness from the outside world and the snow seemed to wash away. He wet his hair and used the product in an open bottle to wash it; he figured it should be the right one, because it smelled like Dean had when he passed by him.

Dean.

He remembered Dean's half-naked body the way he saw it a while ago. He surely was good-looking; full lips, bright green eyes, light-coloured hair, a few shy freckles that probably remained on his face stubbornly since childhood, an honest smile, a body well-built, with co-ordinated moves. He decided that Dean was really nice inside and out, no matter how much he ignored it.

He stepped out of the shower and looked for a towel in the cupboard, just like Sam had told him. He wrapped himself with it, keeping his wings as close to the rest of his body as possible, trying to feel warm again; he guessed the part after a shower wasn't supposed to be as good as the shower itself. It took him a while to finally make the hard decision to take off the towel and tuck his wings back inside his spine; neither of these was pleasant. If his Grace had a voice, it would have screamed all the way through. He looked human again, though. He dressed in the clothes Sam had given him as quickly as he could. They were quite large for him, but they would suffice. He was lucky to have them, anyway.

He looked in the mirror again. Yes, he looked exactly like an ordinary, tired human. He took a deep breath and did what he dreaded until now; he opened his satchel.

Luckily his superiors had been kind enough to give him a little handicap to start his life. He looked at his new ID. It looked the same as the first time he'd peeked at it, only now he had more time to look at it than just memorising the name on it.

James Novak, then. Would it hurt them to put his real name on the ID? How could he live like this? He knew what happened to angels who lived on Earth for too long: they forgot who they were, and they remained there. It had happened many times. He didn't know much about it, but he guessed it was his time to find out. He couldn't imagine how on Earth they could forget about their real identities. The wings on his back certainly wouldn't let him forget.

He sighed as he held his ID next to his face and looked in the mirror. Both the face that was staring back at him and the one in the picture looked equally fake. He threw the ID back in his satchel and looked inside for anything else his superiors might have left him. There was another ID; a professional one. He snorted as he saw that he was supposed to be a nurse. _Good job, superior angels_. _Take a guardian angel, throw him to Earth, and make him heal people by force to redeem himself_. It was like a bad joke, really.

He put the second ID back and kept looking. There was nothing more in there but a vial of some kind of transparent, glowing liquid. It had his name written on it in small, golden letters.

His real name.

He almost dropped it as he realised what it was.

So this is how they all forgot. They were wiping their memories using this little thing.

Water from Lethe, the river of oblivion that leads to the Underworld. Who would have thought?

No.

There was no chance anyone would make him drink it.

He'd stay here for as long as he had to, no more, no less. He'd make amends for Jessica's death and he'd do whatever was asked of him, but not this. Never this. He'd manage to get back to Heaven and continue being a guardian angel, like others did before him.

He wrapped the vial in the shirt he was wearing before and shoved it inside his satchel. Then he looked back at his reflection.

He wouldn't forget, he promised himself. He wouldn't let go. He was who he was. He wouldn't give it up for anything.

"Castiel", he muttered like a prayer. "My name is Castiel".

He wouldn't let himself forget.


	4. Birds of a Feather

Dean wiped the drool off his mouth and tried to shake his sleepiness off. He searched blindly for his alarm clock, wondering why the hell it hadn't rang, while at the same time wondering why the hell he was still waking up early to work two jobs, one of which he loathed to his very core, and what the hell was he doing with his life. He threw a plastic bottle of water off the barrel he was using as a bedside table and mumbled several uninspired curses – hey, he'd just woken up, you can't be witty this early – until he grabbed the familiar shape of his alarm clock.

He looked at it and felt a very serious urge to throw it at the wall. Five thirty in the morning. Damn. And he was already awake enough to not be able to sleep immediately. He'd have to get up in an hour and a half; he could never go back to sleep now.

Grunting, he decided to just pretend he was still asleep for his own brain's sake, so he became a ball of blankets and curses and he concentrated on the dream he had already forgotten about. Then, of course, his bladder decided to ruin it for him.

No, he wouldn't get up. He wouldn't get up, he wouldn't get up…

Yeah, right.

He got up cursing, still wrapped in his blankets. He felt really cold. Maybe he'd caught something. There was no chance the temperature was this low. The building had the heat on and there was no way they'd shut it off for the night. He went to the bathroom, trembling, and came back to bed with the thermometer in his mouth.

Before he went back to his previous position, he noticed the big lump on the couch, and took him a few seconds to remember there was another person staying with them tonight. He noticed some movements, and would have thought it was just some tossing and turning – the poor guy had gone through a tough day, after all – but he hesitated when he heard the turning of a page.

He got up again, came closer to the couch and saw it; Jimmy was covered in blankets and had taken one of Sam's books – Dean couldn't tell which one – and placed it in a position where the lights outside the window made it easier for him to read. He didn't look tired.

"Jimmy?" called Dean quietly, his voice hoarse and muffled by the thermometer.

Jimmy shifted his position and looked at Dean, putting his index finger between the pages to keep track. "Hello", he said, his voice also low, so that there wasn't a chance to wake Sam. "I truly hope I didn't wake you".

"No, no", Dean reassured him, keeping the low tones. "I just needed to go to the bathroom. Are you alright?"

"Are _you_ alright?" Jimmy asked back, his voice concerned. "Are you ill?"

"Dunno", shrugged Dean. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I can't".

It was a simple statement, quite obvious even to the most oblivious observer, but Dean couldn't leave it alone. For some reason, he felt Jimmy's words went down a little deeper.

"Scoot over", he said and made a shooing move with his hand. Jimmy looked around, took a coaster from the table next to him and used it to mark the page in his book – the Phantom of the Opera, Dean noticed as Jimmy shut it and put it on the table – and pulled his legs close to him, wrapping himself in his covers and making room for Dean. Dean sat down and took out the thermometer.

"Ninety-nine", he announced as he looked at it. "Dammit".

"So you _are_ ill", said Jimmy and Dean swore he looked like a kid whose candy was taken away.

"Seems so", he said. "I'll see how I am in a couple of hours and if I'm worse I'll call sick at work".

"I'd suggest you stay at home today anyway", said Jimmy. "Working won't do you any good".

Dean groaned. "I know, I know. But I've missed a couple of days already. It will look like I'm making up excuses, plus I really need the money".

Jimmy thought about it for a second. "Aren't you friends with your employer at the diner? That's the impression you gave me".

Dean shrugged, even if it wasn't really visible under his three blankets. "Yeah, sort of", he admitted. "But still, I don't wanna look like I'm skipping work because of my bad mood or anything. I'll just see how I am in a couple of hours and I'll do whatever I have to".

Jimmy stared at him for a couple of moments and Dean felt like his very being was being scanned. He could swear that if there was such a thing as a mind reader, this is what it would look like. Then Jimmy looked away and, to Dean's surprise, he pulled away one of his two blankets and wrapped it around Dean's shivering body.

"Wait—" Dean started, but Jimmy shushed him and pushed the edges of the blanket between Dean's body and the couch, making it impossible for him to move. It felt good, though. Then Jimmy crawled closer to Dean and pillowed onto him to offer him some of his own body's warmth. Dean thought about going "whoa, bro!" but that actually felt quite nice – plus Sam wasn't around to make fun of him. As soon as Jimmy rested on him, he could swear he felt a warm aura wrap around him, like there was suddenly a raise in the temperature.

He thought about saying something, but he knew that anything he could say would make this awkward, and he really didn't want that. So they just remained like this, Dean feeling warmer and warmer. His eyelids got heavy and before he knew it, he was asleep.

::::

Dean woke up at 8.30 to the sound of a fully dressed Sam calling his name. He was feeling terribly cold again. He looked to his right and saw that Jimmy had left the couch; for some reason he wouldn't like to explore further, he felt a little disappointed.

"Dean", he heard Sam's voice again and came back to reality.

"Yeah", he murmured under his blankets.

"Dude, you need to be at work in like half an hour", Sam said, hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm perfect. That's why I'm a snivelling human burrito", Dean groaned, putting as much sarcasm in his tired voice as possible. "I think I've caught something".

"Crap. Do you want me to stay home? I can manage that", said Sam.

"Didn't you have that important class about some laws and crap today?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, thanks for paying attention to my classes names", said Sam. "And yeah, I do, but since you're sick I can't leave you here alone all morning".

"What are you talking about? I'm gonna get up and go to work", argued Dean, not very convincingly, since he had made no move to get out of his blankets. "Bobby's gonna kill me if I miss another day. He gave me two days off to deal with the whole Nora thing, I can't take advantage of him any m—" he coughed loudly, "any more".

"Yeah, right", said Sam and Dean wanted as much as anything to have his hands out of his blanket burrito; he could swear his brother's bitchface had just reached new levels. He really wanted to smack him at that point. Sam threw the phone on his lap. "Just call Bobby and tell him you're not going", he ordered. "I'm gonna go to class for a few hours and then I'll bring you some noodle soup, got it?"

Dean made a face. "I won't get well on noodle soup, Sammy", he groaned. "I need to be strong. I need meat".

"What you do with your free time in your bed is none of my business", said Sam and Dean, as much as he loathed him for that comment, had to give him a touché point for that. He suddenly realised he had been sleeping on the couch, which was supposed to be Jimmy's territory. He felt his cheeks catch fire, but Sam either didn't wonder about it, or was polite enough to let it go. Dean didn't know which was worse; he didn't want his baby brother to get the wrong idea. He might have been more than cool with his brother's bisexuality, but still.

"Sammy—"

"Just shut up and rest", Sam interrupted. "Now, _will you be okay on your own_?"

"Excuse me", sounded a polite, low voice from behind them.

Both Dean and Sam turned to see Jimmy having gotten out of the bathroom, still in Sam's clothes. He gave them an awkward half-smile.

"Hey there", greeted Dean. "I thought you left". He honestly had no idea whether the others could hear the disappointment in his voice; he was really happy he had thought wrong.

Jimmy cleared his throat; a lost cause, really. "No, I didn't", he said. "And I'm sorry, but I overheard your talk. I have nothing to do, so if you want someone to be here for Dean, I could do it. It's the least I could do to pay you back for your hospitality".

"Oh, no, Jimmy", Dean tried to protest, blushing. "I don't want to put you in trouble, man, really—"

"It's no trouble", Jimmy interrupted him. "I told you, I've got nothing better to do, and I'd like to help you out. Sam can go to his class and everything, and I can make sure you'll be alright".

"Are you sure you don't have another place to be?" asked Sam, who seemed to like Jimmy's idea. Jimmy just shook his head.

"If I had, I wouldn't have stayed here last night, would I?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. "He's got a point", Sam observed.

Dean sighed. "Okay", he gave in. "But I want you to know, I don't feel good about making you do this. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you".

"I doubt you feel good about anything at this state", commented Sam.

"Shut up. Next time, bring me a hot nurse", Dean answered, trying to tease Sam; he'd hate to have him worried.

"I am a nurse", Dean heard Jimmy's voice and both him and Sam turned to look at him with their eyes widened. Jimmy blushed more than he probably would have if they'd caught him jerk off. "I… I mean that I've got some medical knowledge and… I can make sure you'll be okay. Not that…" he cleared his throat. "I just realised what you meant. I'm sorry".

Dean laughed, which caused him another cough attack. "Aw, man", he exclaimed. "Sammy, can we keep him? He's cute". What? Where the hell had that come from? He was about to make a joke, not make this even more uncomfortable. Jimmy looked like he wanted to hide inside a hole and never get out again, but Sam just laughed; luckily, he probably was okay with such jokes.

"Alright", he said. "I'm gonna leave you two here, then. Be good boys and", he turned to Jimmy, "if he's annoying, ignore him or feed him. He's such a jerk when he's sick. Just give him an aspirin, get him to watch a Disney movie and he'll shut up".

"Hey!" shouted Dean but Jimmy just nodded.

"I'll take care of him, Sam", he promised, almost too formally. Sam smiled.

"I'll be back as soon as possible", he promised in his turn. "See you".

Dean and Jimmy watched as Sam put on a woolly black cap and a matching scarf, took his books and left, smiling with optimism. They looked at each other when the door closed.

Jimmy smiled, and Dean felt like blushing again.

"Okay", he said, "seems it's just you and me now".

"So it would seem", Jimmy agreed. "I believe I'm supposed to make you something hot to drink now, right?"

Dean cringed. "Look, don't make me feel bad", he protested. "You're not 'supposed' to do anything. Don't make it sound like I'm keeping you here for a servant or—"

"No, no, you misunderstand me", Jimmy interrupted, his cheeks still red. "I… I haven't really done this before. People in my family tend to never get sick, so I'm a little inexperienced, that's all".

Dean frowned. Maybe he was dizzy from the fever and didn't keep track of the conversation, he thought. "I thought you were a nurse?"

Jimmy looked away. "Yes. Some kind of a nurse, anyway. I know some tricks to make you feel better, but that doesn't make me an expert on hot drinks".

Dean cringed. "Dude, I'm sorry, but if you intended to sound like anything else but a porn star on the job, you totally failed".

And Dean thought a face couldn't get any redder. "That was not my intention", Jimmy muttered. "I—"

Dean laughed. "Yeah, okay", he interrupted. "No more porn jokes".

"I'd appreciate that", Jimmy said, but he had that half-smile of his on. "So, can I make you something? A cup of tea, maybe? Would you like that?"

Dean never considered drinking tea, but what the hell. He was going to take advantage of his hot nurse. As soon as he thought of that, he mentally slapped himself, but he nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that", he said and Jimmy nodded. Dean watched him as he went behind the bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. "Tea bags on the top left cabinet!" he said loudly, and received another nod. He took his hands out of his blankets to grab the phone, to his great discomfort. His frozen fingers took a while to dial Bobby's number in the garage.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Bobby", Dean greeted.

"_Where are ya, boy? Ye shoulda be here by now! That rich pal, Anderson, has brought his old Mercedes again and he's asking for ya"._

Dean groaned. "Sorry Bobby, can't make it. I must have caught something and these guys won't let me out of the house. I promise I'll come fix the dude's car tomorrow".

Bobby remained silent for a moment. _"I hope it's not because you're cryin' over that girl o'yours, son"._

"What? No!" Dean protested and even that made him cough. "I'm just a little sick, that's all. I wanted to come, I really did. But it seems I'm stuck at home for today".

"_Okay, boy. Take care of yerself"_, said Bobby. _"But make sure to call Ellen to find someone to replace you at the Roadhouse because tonight's gonna be a busy night. It's Pamela's birthday, remember? She's arranged tonight for months and she's gonna be pissed if the service ain't good"._

"Oh, crap", said Dean. "I'd forgotten about that. Can't you guys call Chuck to cover up for me? Or Ruby, or Becky? Someone must have a free evening".

"_I'll try, son, but I dunno what's gonna happen. Let's hope we'll manage tonight. I mean, for tomorrow there's no problem, but… Well, don't bother with it. I'll take care of it. You just rest for a couple o' days and leave it to me, okay?"_

"Yeah, okay. I'll just call Ellen, and maybe every other waiter in the diner to cover up for me", groaned Dean. "I'm sorry, Bobby, I—"

"Dean?"

Dean turned to see Jimmy staring at him. "Wait a sec, Bobby", he said and looked back at Jimmy. "What is it?"

"I could do your shift".

Dean forgot about the phone in his hand as he stared at Jimmy. "What?" he asked, confused.

"If your illness causes inconvenience to you and your job, then I could do it. At least, I think I could, if it doesn't require special abilities", Jimmy explained, looking a bit embarrassed.

Dean wondered for a moment whether this guy was the real deal. "Why would you do that?" he managed to ask.

Jimmy titled his head. "Why not?"

"Are you serious?" Dean insisted.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Um, because it's _my job_, and because we're talking about you playing waiter in a freaking girl party here so that _my_ boss isn't in trouble. And you just met me yesterday night, and you're already playing nurse with me".

Jimmy frowned. "So? If I can help anyone so that there's no inconvenience, I see no reason not to. And you did offer me food and residence when I needed it, so don't act like you don't deserve my help. Give yourself some credit".

"But—"

"Don't argue, just take the offer. I have no life purpose at the moment so I'll take whatever is thrown at me. Give me an evening of something nice to do. Please".

Dean blinked at the bluntness of the statement. He ignored Bobby's calls coming from the phone. He really, really didn't know how to deal with Jimmy's mental state right now. He didn't want to take advantage of him, but the guy seemed to really want that.

"Alright", he agreed in the end. "If you're sure".

"I am. If your boss is okay with it, then so am I".

Dean put the phone back on his ear. "Bobby? Still there?"

"_Where the hell did ya go, boy?"_

"Look, would it be okay if I sent a—" he hesitated for a moment. "A friend of mine? He's a cool guy, he'll do the job", _I hope_, he added mentally.

"What friend?"

"His name's Jimmy, you don't know him. He offered to replace me for today".

"Is he there right now?"

"Yeah".

"Get him on the phone".

Dean was about to call Jimmy, when an elegant hand touched his shoulder and a part of his cheek, taking away the phone like the conversation was on speaker and he'd heard what was said, making him shiver. This fever was really getting worse, he told himself. He watched as Jimmy spoke to Bobby.

"Hello".

"Yes, this is Jimmy".

"Well, Dean probably hasn't mentioned me because we only met yesterday, sir".

"Yes, at the diner".

"Yes, I'm that guy".

"My story has nothing to do with this, sir, if I may say".

"Because Dean has been kind to me and I want to help".

"No, of course I don't want you to pay me extra. That's not why I'm doing it".

"No, I don't have any, but I'm doing it for Dean and for your diner".

"No. No other reasons. I'm on board as long as Dean gets his payment, as if he was the one working".

"Because I think it's the right thing to do".

"Thank you".

"Alright. I will see you at six".

Dean watched in awe as Jimmy took the phone away from his ear, looked at it for a moment as if he was searching for the red button before he pressed it and gave it back to Dean.

"All settled", he said. "Now wait one moment".

Dean remained speechless as Jimmy went to the kitchen and came back in less than a minute, holding a tray with a cup of steaming tea that smelled like heaven, and a can of condensed milk, along with sugar and honey. He put it in the table in front of Dean and gave him the cup.

"I didn't know what you liked in your tea, but I know you're supposed to put something in it", he said, almost apologetically. "So I brought you anything I could find. You might like something else, but I'm not familiar with your kitchen".

Dean stared at him for a while. Jimmy didn't look away. Dean guessed any other person would have taken his eyes away, but not Jimmy. He just kept looking into Dean's eyes, contrary to any expected normal reaction. Of course, he seemed to be anything but normal.

In the end, Dean decided to lose the staring contest. He chuckled and looked at his cup. "Are you for real?" he asked, before he even knew, and looked back at Jimmy. He didn't want to look away.

Jimmy tilted his head again. "What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

"I mean", Dean tried to put his thoughts into words as he leaned back on the couch, making room for Jimmy to sit next to him, "who does all those things you do? Are you really this kind of person?"

Jimmy frowned as he sat close to Dean. "I don't think I understand".

Dean rolled his eyes. "_Seriously_", he muttered and bit his lip before he started again. "I mean, you walk out the street without money or even a coat during a freaking snowstorm, and you get in a diner and get a charity meal, yet you genuinely try to repay the one who gave it to you like it was a chest of gold. You haven't said a thing about yourself, and judging from the condition I found you, you could easily be a junkie or something. Yet you have a name like 'James Frances Novak'—"

"My middle name's not Frances".

"Whatever… and you talk like you're writing an essay. You say you're a nurse but you've got no idea that you're supposed to make tea for people who are sick. You crash into two strangers' apartment without even a change of clothes and yet you're staying here taking care of me like you're my actual nurse, and you're offering to do my job for me without even accepting money, even though you don't have it yourself". Dean took a deep breath. "Are you for real, Jimmy?"

Jimmy's expression didn't change. "Everything you said is true, yes".

"I know, man, I'm just saying… Are you really what you look like?"

"And what do I look like, if I may ask?"

Dean rolled his eyes impatiently. "Stop fucking around", he said. "You're a mystery, you know that? Nobody does what you do. Your entire existence so far is a huge contrast between its two different sides. You're one of the weirdest people I've ever met, and the fact that I say it as a good thing creeps the fuck out of me".

Jimmy gave him another half-smile. "I'll assume that I understand your point", he said quietly. "And the answer is both yes and no".

Dean frowned, sighed and sank further back in the couch, taking a sip of his tea. "You speak in riddles, mage", he said, and clicked his tongue at Jimmy's confused head tilt. "Forget it, it's a gaming joke. But you _are_ talking in riddles, and I'm way too sick for that".

Jimmy laced his fingers together in his lap and turned his eyes on them. "The answer is… no, I'm not what I look like", he said. "I've done and seen things you wouldn't believe. My past would blow your mind, so I'll keep most of it to myself. But my intentions are true, and I haven't lied about them or pretended to be someone I'm not". He looked at Dean with a kind expression that could melt icebergs. "Let's just assume that I have a past I'm running away from, shall we?"

Dean nodded. They remained silent for a while after that. Without saying a word, Dean pulled his legs closer to his body and patted the cushion next to him as an invitation for Jimmy to come and sit beside him. When Jimmy crawled next to him, Dean lifted the edge of one of his blankets and let Jimmy get some of the warmth. He didn't mind having Jimmy's legs pressed against his own; damn, the dude was a million degrees hot. And not just in one way, Dean thought as he faced those amazing blue eyes again. He noticed the smooth skin on Jimmy's face, the light peach fuzz, like he was a teenager who'd never shaved.

Dean sighed and cupped his tea with his palms.

"So, what's your story?" he asked. Jimmy glared at him.

"I thought I told you that—"

"Yeah, yeah, that you'd keep most of your past to yourself", said Dean impatiently. "What about the parts you don't mind talking about?"

Jimmy eyed him carefully. "Why are you asking?"

"I don't know, why are _you_ offering to nurse me to health and do my job for me?"

"Because I care, believe it or not".

"Well then, there you go".

Dean didn't turn his eyes away from Jimmy's, even though he was sure he'd eventually lose the staring contest again; the guy was scary when he wanted to be. However, Jimmy was the first to look away, and to Dean, it looked like he relaxed a little.

"Why do you want to know?" Jimmy asked in the end. "I'm reminding you that I'm running away from my past. As soon as possible, actually. So I can't promise I'll tell you everything".

"Yes, but I'm helping you run away", Dean reminded him. "And if I don't know what we're running from it might come and bite us in the ass when I'm not expecting it. So give me a clue".

Jimmy looked really uncomfortable and Dean wondered if he'd put too much pressure on him. In the end, Jimmy leaned back and sighed.

"Okay, I'll make you a deal", he said.

"I'm listening", said Dean.

"We'll both share our stories", Jimmy suggested. "I'm gonna say one thing, you're gonna say something else. Fair and square. If we're to know each other better, we'll do it as equals".

Dean nodded. "Seems fair", he agreed. "But since you got to see my house and my workplace, and meet my brother and my boss, I think you're the one who should start".

Jimmy nodded. "Alright", he gave in. "What do you want to know?"

"Um… I don't know", admitted Dean. "Where are you from?"

Jimmy seemed to think about it for a second. "Topeka", he finally said.

"Okay, that's a start", Dean encouraged him, even though he wasn't sure it was the truth. It seemed likely, though. "Did you live with your parents?"

Jimmy cringed. "Not exactly. We were – are – a very big family. We were all living together, in a way. We were very close, so each one of us was independent, but always let the others know what we did. My Father – the Head of the Family – he's very strict. We'd all kind of… give our reports to him. Every member of the family had a work to do, and we all did it for him".

Dean frowned. "I'm sorry, man, but that sounds more like a firm than a family", he said. "You sound like one of those families who make their kids wear matching clothes to go to Sunday school".

"You wouldn't be entirely wrong to assume something like that", Jimmy agreed. Dean made a grimace.

"I'm honestly sorry", he said.

Jimmy exhaled loudly, half in annoyance and half in amusement. Dean took another sip from his tea and added some sugar.

"So… a guy like you", he said, "religious, I assume, and obviously well-educated… who works for free to repay his supposed debts and offers to help selflessly the ones who need it… What could _you_ have possibly done that made your folks throw you out?"

Jimmy smiled. "Isn't it your turn now?"

"What, was that it? No way", said Dean. "Gimme a little more about you first. Not necessarily the bad stuff and the throwing you out part, like, do you have any siblings? Did you choose to be a nurse? Do you like cars? You know; anything".

Jimmy sighed. "Yes, I have siblings", he said. "And I miss them already. I believe one of my brothers lives somewhere close, though, so I might search for him soon. To answer to your other questions, no, I didn't choose to be a nurse, it's just a talent I always had. And I'm not particularly into cars, even though I wouldn't mind learning a few things".

Dean nodded. "Your brother… was he kicked out too?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No. He left on his own accord years ago. I don't even know how to find him; I doubt he'll be using his real name. He had a terrifying love-hate relationship with the rest of the family, and very few of us have tried to look for him. He completely disappeared ages ago, but I know he's alright. If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. He's extremely clever. I always looked up to him and when I was younger, I was trying to be like him. I failed _so badly_", and he let out a bitter laugh. "I wasn't the one for mischief like he was. I guess he's somewhere out there, still playing tricks at everything. I'd love to see him again, but it's been a very long time. I know he doesn't want to be found, and I'm a little scared to look for him. He might not like it, or he might wonder why I'm only looking for him now that I need him. But I always wanted to find him. I tried for a while, but then I gave up. It just… wasn't my job. That wasn't my role in the family".

Jimmy's voice faded. Dean narrowed his eyes in thought as he watched him carefully. It was clear that this whole thing with his family had deeply affected Jimmy, but somehow his voice was flat. Dean knew that tone. It wasn't the voice of someone who didn't care; it was the voice of a soldier. Jimmy had learnt to stay strong and keep his head up, Dean could tell as much; it took one to know one.

"You've been through some rough shit, haven't you?" Dean asked in a low voice, as if he didn't want to disturb Jimmy. "I mean, before you were kicked out".

Jimmy looked at him. "I've seen a lot, yes", he admitted. "But it's the first time it affects me this much". He gave Dean a little smile. "So what have _you_ been through?"

Dean took another sip from his tea and absentmindedly wondered why he hadn't bothered with it before he got sick. "Do you mean recently or generally in my life?"

"Whatever is more comfortable for you to talk about", said Jimmy. "But I would like to hear it from the start. You said you lost your mother, didn't you?" he asked softly.

Dean sighed. "Yeah", he murmured. It wasn't easy but hey, Jimmy had given him _something_. Maybe it was time to open up a little bit. He never thought he would, but maybe there is a first time for everything. He took a deep breath before he started. "I was four", he said. "Sammy was six months old. There was a fire in our old place. My Dad told me to get Sammy out, so I did. He ran for Mum, but she'd been trapped. There was no way to save her. The firemen only barely saved Dad, actually. He'd have died to save her, he really would have. But she did die. I remember her well; Sammy doesn't. He knows her only by her pictures and by what Dad and I have told him, and he still loves her. Dad never got married again, even though he fooled around a lot. Mum's death tore him apart. He started drinking, he gave up on himself, and then he started travelling; he kinda gave up on me and Sammy too, you know? So I always took care of Sam. It's weird, I know, and we probably should be more like bros, like hanging around and everything, but I don't think you can go through so much crap without starting to cling on one another like your life depends on it. I could never let go of Sammy, and I sometimes wonder if I'm sick or something, but I can't help it. I'd probably kill myself if anything happened to him".

Dean stopped. He realised his voice was trembling and he took a deep, shaky breath. What was wrong with him? How did he end up saying all these things? He hadn't even told Nora all that straight to her face – even though he suspected she knew how much it had affected him – and now this guy made him a cup of tea and that's all it took?

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. "I am truly sorry", came a murmur from Jimmy. Dean looked at him, surprised. His voice was honest; there was no doubt about that. It would take an Oscar-rate actor to make this up. Dean smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry to let all that out", he said and chuckled nervously. "I don't know what got into me".

"Nothing got into you, Dean", said Jimmy. "But many things got out of you, which is a good thing. Thank you for trusting me".

"I had no other choice, had I?" Dean tried to joke, but Jimmy frowned.

"I didn't force you to do anything", he reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know", muttered Dean. "I'm just trying to lighten up the atmosphere".

"No need to", said Jimmy softly. He took his hand back to his lap and Dean's shoulder suddenly felt extremely cold. "So, who's Nora?"

Dean blinked. He didn't remember bringing her up. "How do you—"

"I heard when you were talking to your boss", Jimmy explained. "I imagined it was something that has bothered you a lot, since you seem to have lost a couple of days of work for her".

Dean sighed. "Yeah", he murmured and turned his cup in his hands a couple of times. He didn't really want to talk about Nora; for some reason, he didn't want to tell Jimmy about his serious relationship with a girl. Even though he barely knew the guy, he didn't want him to think he was completely straight. He shook it off; it was just his need to be with someone. He wouldn't hit on the first person he met after Nora. Besides, since when did he even considered actually being _together_ together with a guy? Being turned on by one was one thing; a relationship, even a rebound one, was another. He frowned. "I don't know man, have you ever felt really, really sad over a girl?"

Was that a twitch in Jimmy's eyes? "I have. Go on".

"Like, have you ever been in a relationship with someone really special? A person that you think you know inside and out? Someone that you'd die for?"

A sad little smile appeared on Jimmy's lips. "In a way, yes. I have".

"Well, that was Nora for me", Dean explained. "We were together for years. We agreed in everything, or so I thought. We were a freaking weird couple, but at least we were honest with each other. We were honest about what we wanted, and we were okay with anything the other one would do; hell, we'd usually do crazy things together. Like, we weren't _exactly_ polyamorous, but we sometimes needed a break from each other, just to try something new, or because we wanted a one-night-stand, and even that was okay. We knew that there never was a chance for someone to come between us. Or, that's what I thought, anyway".

He paused, searching Jimmy's face for the usual disgusted expression he got every time he explained his relationship. It wasn't there. Jimmy just looked at him, waiting for him to go on. It was probably the first time anyone wasn't shocked by his love life. Jimmy made a gesture, encouraging him to go on. Dean obeyed.

"So you know, there came a time when I started… figuring out some things about myself", he went on, unsure. "And Nora didn't like them. Which was surprising, because she was supposed to be open-minded. She'd literally yell at people for being judgemental. I guess she wasn't so open to accepting weird stuff concerning her boyfriend".

They remained silent for a while. In the end, Jimmy broke the silence. "May I ask what was it that caused her reaction?" he asked. "Or is it too bold?"

Well, Dean wasn't escaping this one. He was torn between shouting the truth at Jimmy and taking it to the grave. He decided he'd better get on with it.

"Well, I'm bi", he admitted. "Or, I could be. I don't like labels. Anyway, I found out I like guys too. She didn't like it and dumped me. That's it".

Jimmy frowned and for a moment Dean felt really, really nervous. What was he doing? The guy was coming from an ultra-religious family. He'd probably tell him that he was a sinner in a thousand different ways.

Instead, Jimmy just made a disappointed face. "I'm sorry about that", he said. "I don't understand why she'd reject you like that. You sound like you really loved her. Your preferences don't seem like something that would affect your relationship".

Dean snorted. "I know", he said. "She didn't seem to think like that, though". He finished his tea, glad it was still hot enough. "Anyway, that's my story. Your turn now".

Jimmy looked away. "There's no escaping this, is there?"

Dean smiled at Jimmy's choice of words; they really were more similar than he thought at first. He shook his head. "Nope. No way".

Jimmy sighed. "Alright", he gave in. "What else do you want to know?"

Dean shrugged. What could he ask? The entirety of this person was a freaking riddle. "Tell me about your girl", he said in the end.

Jimmy tilted his head. Damn, this was so trademark Jimmy; Dean had already started getting used to it. "My girl?" Jimmy asked.

"Yeah, you said you'd felt the same way about a girl", Dean insisted. "What was she like? I assume you're not together anymore".

Jimmy sighed. He shifted in his seat and brought his legs closer to his body, covering himself with the blanket. Dean noticed he was barefoot, for some unknown reason. He watched as Jimmy made himself more comfortable, waiting patiently. He wondered for a moment if he had been too personal, but then Jimmy took a deep breath.

"She wasn't really _my girl_", he said softly, his look vacant. "If anything, I was more hers than she was mine. I'd give my life for her". He turned his eyes away. "I should have given my life for her", he muttered.

Dean felt a shiver down his spine that he suspected had nothing to do with the fever. "What happened, Jimmy?" he asked quietly.

"We weren't _together_", Jimmy said. "Not in the way you mean. We were close; very, very close. I took care of her. She was literally my life".

Dean smiled bitterly. "That much, huh?"

Jimmy nodded.

"What was her name?" asked Dean.

Jimmy's voice was choked. "Jessica", he whispered. "Her name was Jessica".

Dean nodded slowly. "Very bad breakup, huh?" Jimmy looked at him. "What happened?"

The corner of Jimmy's mouth twitched. "We didn't break up, Dean. I told you, we weren't a couple".

"Then what—" Dean stopped as he understood. He blushed as he mentally beat himself up for insisting. He gulped. "I… I'm sorry, Jimmy. I shouldn't have brought this up".

Jimmy shook his head. "It's okay".

"How did she…"

"Car accident".

Dean nodded. He kept himself from hugging Jimmy; he guessed it would be inappropriate. He felt like all his social skills had melted away. "When?" he asked.

He didn't expect the answer.

"Two days ago".


	5. Broken

Castiel saw the shock in Dean's eyes as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

"Oh my God", Dean mumbled. "I'm so sorry, Jimmy".

Castiel nodded. "Yeah, me too".

They remained silent for a moment.

Castiel took a deep breath. He was getting used to his new name. It sounded nice when uttered by Dean, but he couldn't help wondering how his real name would sound coming from that mouth. Dean really was a nice person, and he seemed like he was genuinely sorry, even though he probably had many more things to ask; Castiel guessed he was holding back because he didn't want to intrude. That's what he had figured humans did, but he didn't understand why; Dean was obviously curious and had made the start to this conversation, so why stop now?

"What else?" Castiel asked, and Dean looked a little embarrassed.

"Look, I'm sorry I pressured you", he said. "If you don't want to talk about it…"

"It's alright, Dean", Castiel reassured him. "I wouldn't mind talking about it. I haven't, so far. Maybe it would be beneficial".

Dean frowned. "You haven't talked about it with anyone?"

Castiel shook his head. "I didn't have anyone to talk to", he admitted.

Dean bit his lip and hesitated before he talked again. "When did they kick you out?" he asked.

Castiel took a deep breath. "Right after Jessica died".

Dean's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes".

"They threw you out right after your friend died?" Dean asked, scandalised. "Who does that? Why on Earth would anyone do that?"

"Dean—"

"No, Jimmy", Dean went on. The anger in his voice was clear as a crystal. "There was nothing you could do that would make someone give up on you instead of helping you at this point of your life. _Nothing_".

"Dean, listen to me—"

"Family sticks together, Jimmy!" Dean shouted and Castiel blinked. "They stand up for you! So whatever it was that you did, it wasn't enough to—"

"Dean!"

Dean stopped; he faced Castiel almost trembling in anger. Castiel took another breath.

"Dean, I killed her".

Castiel wasn't good at deciphering emotions when they appeared on humans' faces, so he couldn't name every single expression that passed from Dean's face. He could sense his frustration, though; it took Dean a few moments before he could talk again.

"What…?" was the only thing he managed to say.

"I fell and took her with me, Dean", Castiel said, his voice not much more than a whisper.

Castiel noticed Dean's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed the knot in his throat. "You said it was a car accident", he muttered.

"It was, but it was also my fault that she died", said Castiel. "Her death is on me. I couldn't save her. I had only one job, Dean, and that was to protect her. And I couldn't".

He looked away. He couldn't look Dean in the eyes; he couldn't look anybody in the eyes after admitting this. He knew what he had done all along, yet saying out loud made his chest sink and his heart shatter in a million pieces.

Then he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Hey", said Dean softly. "Wanna tell me?"

"Tell you what?" asked Castiel, his voice broken. "She's dead because of me, Dean. That's what happened. I let her drive, and she was drunk. She was hit by a truck. If only I'd—"?

"Jimmy, that's not your fault", Dean said, an urgent tone in his voice. "D'ya hear me? _It wasn't your fault_. She shouldn't have gone driving like that".

"But I should have stopped her, Dean!" Castiel protested, surprising even himself at the loud tone he used. "I should have taken the wheel when that truck came towards us, I—"

"Wait, wait", Dean interrupted. "You were in the car too?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes".

He could see the confusion in Dean's face. He wasn't to blame; Jimmy Novak definitely didn't look like he'd been in a car accident recently. "I was lucky", Castiel explained, feeling a little guilty for lying, but he had no choice. "I got away only with some bruises. The truck hit her side of the car. She stayed in the hospital for nine days before she let go. And even as she lay there I couldn't do anything to help her".

"Jimmy…" Dean started, and he looked like he had a thousand things to say. "It wasn't your fault, man", he managed to say in the end. "Stop beating up yourself about it. I know it's terrible, it sucks man, _I know,_ but don't feel guilty about it. There was nothing you could have done".

"I could have stopped her from drinking, and then from driving", Castiel insisted. "I could have taken the wheel to stir us out of the truck's way. I could have saved her in the hospital, only _I couldn't._ _Her death is on me_, Dean. So don't tell me—"

"Is that what your family told you?" Dean interrupted. "Man, don't tell me _they_ told you all this shit. Don't you dare tell me they kicked you out because they blamed you for Jessica's death. _This_ is what this sounds like, so please, _please_ tell me I'm mistaken".

Castiel didn't look away this time. "It _was_ my fault".

"Oh, Jesus Christ". Dean spat his sentence out like a curse as he punched the couch. "Are you trying to tell me that your family not only blamed you for your friend's death, but they also threw you out instead of helping you deal with it?"

Castiel blinked. "I—"

"For fuck's sake, Jimmy!"

Dean was breathing heavily. Castiel frowned as he looked at him. He'd never expected him to be this angry about this whole thing. Dean didn't understand, Castiel reminded himself. He didn't know what he was talking about.

Then why did the same story, the truth, sound like the rest of the angels were the bad guys when Dean was telling it? Castiel hadn't lied, at least not about the main points of his story; how did Dean could ever assume that Castiel – no,_ Jimmy_ – was the victim?

Castiel opened his mouth, without really having anything in mind to say. He closed it again.

Dean leaned closer to Castiel's face. "Jimmy, listen to me", he said, his voice hard and solid as a rock. "You're better off without them, do you understand me?"

"Dean—"

"Shut up".

Castiel was taken aback. "What did you just say to me?"

"I said shut up and listen", Dean insisted, and he didn't take his eyes away. Castiel's anger had started to burn inside him, but a part of him was impressed; no mortal had ever looked at him like this before. The wild green eyes of Dean Winchester were equals to the ones of an angel, and Castiel couldn't but admire this human's courage, even if he didn't know what kind of creature he had in front of him.

After a moment, Dean went on. "Shit happens, Jimmy", he said. "It's terrible, and it's heart-breaking, and you have every right to collapse and hate your life and cry your eyes out. You have every right to hate the world and blame God for your misfortunes. You—"

"I wouldn't ever blame God, Dean".

"I said shut up. Of course you can blame God. He's tough, He can take it", said Dean, his eyes still focused on Castiel's. "What you can't do is blame yourself. You're human; you're supposed to make mistakes. If it was meant to happen, you couldn't have stopped it".

Castiel let out a small, bitter laugh that sounded to him like it was hiding a hint of insanity inside it. "You don't get it", he insisted. "It _wasn't meant_ to happen. I'm _not _supposed to make mistakes. She was _supposed_ to live many years and have a happy life. She was supposed to meet a good man and spend her life with him. She was supposed to become a lawyer, Dean. She had her whole life in front of her and I couldn't save her future".

"It wasn't your job to save her!"

"Yes, it was! That was my purpose in this life, Dean, and I screwed it up!"

"So what are you going to do, kill yourself?" Dean shouted. "Life goes on, Jimmy! I know it's still fresh on you, and I know you miss her, but don't you ever say it was your fault! And you know what, your family should have been the one to tell you all this! And you're telling me… You told me yesterday that you're trying to redeem yourself to them? The bastards who left you alone in a snowstorm to freeze?"

"You don't get it", Castiel growled. "When we screw up, my family gives two options: either make up for what you've done and then come back as a better person, or erase them from your life and take a completely new path without them, as an outcast. I can't do that, Dean. I need to get back to them".

"Why the fuck would you want to go back!?"

"Because they're all I know!" Castiel yelled and Dean, for a moment, stopped. Castiel took a few breaths.

"I can't lose them, Dean", he said, his voice calmer now. "That life… with them, it's who I am. They're a part of me. If I give them up, I'll have to forget everything I know. I'll have to erase my past, my name, my history, everything. This life here, it's not me. I have to go back somehow".

Dean shook his head sympathetically. "No, you don't", he said softly. "It doesn't sound like a good life, Jimmy. You sound like a brave little soldier, you know that? It's good sometimes, but when it doesn't work, you have to take another path, man. It's given to you. Just grab your second chance and run as fast as you can. Make your own life. You owe them nothing".

Castiel smiled bitterly. "I owe them everything, Dean".

"And they took it all back when they turned their backs on you", said Dean. Castiel looked at him questioningly. "They took enough from you, man, and they stepped on you when you needed them most. I say screw them. I'm gonna help you make a new life myself, if you'll have my help. They lost the right to call you family when they threw you out because something bad happened on your watch. That's not a reason to give up on you; not even close".

Castiel licked his lips nervously. He shouldn't be running out of arguments. His opponent was a human, for goodness' sake; how could he not counter his arguments? "There are family members who have managed to make up for their mistakes over the years", he said hesitantly. "I can't give up; I still have hope".

"Yeah, and with them, was it the same as before?" asked Dean, his voice filled with nothing but kindness. Castiel remembered all the blank faces of the angels who'd come back, all the silent, sad looks; he remembered how much Earth had changed them. He wanted to say "yes" to Dean, he really did. But he wouldn't lie if he didn't have to.

"No", he whispered and his eyes watered.

So this is how it was. There was no going back. Things would never be the same for him.

Dean's hand squeezed his shoulder. "Look", he heard him say, "I daren't imagine how it would feel like if I ever lost Sammy. He's my life too, you know? But if—" he gulped, "if anything ever happened to him, I know Dad would support me. Yell at me and maybe beat the living shit out of me, maybe, but he'd be there for me. You know why? Because that's what family does. Even a small, broken family, it's supposed to work this way. You've got to earn the right to be called family, and _your _family certainly lost theirs".

Castiel remained silent for a while. He didn't know what to think. He was completely lost. His hidden wings ached, and his words had been taken away by some human. He felt a knot in his throat and a fire in his eyes, and suddenly his sight was blurred and his cheeks were wet and there was a taste of salt in his mouth. For a second, he was terrified; and then he realised he was crying.

No, that wasn't normal; he wasn't supposed to cry. That was what humans did. He'd been in this world for millennia and he'd never, ever felt so many things at the same time.

Then it hit him; he'd never really felt anything before. He'd been in this Earth for so long, but never like this; never with a physical body, capable of a fast heartbeat and a stomach to drop and tears to shed. He wasn't human, but he definitely wasn't an angel anymore.

"I don't know what to do, Dean", he muttered as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

Dean gave him a small smile. "I'm gonna tell you what to do", he said. "You're gonna cry your heart out and mourn your friend's death. And the you're gonna go to the diner tonight and meet one of the girls in the party and have a good time, or ask Bobby for a job, or meet a producer who's looking for a blue-eyed guy from Topeka to star in his next soap opera. You're gonna come with me and fix the apartment next to this one when I'm better, or you're gonna ride the first bus to anywhere and see the rest of America. You're gonna go find your brother or just shove him in your past, along with the rest of your family". His smile became a little wider. "What I mean is… you can do whatever the hell you want, Jimmy. It's your choice now. You don't have to answer to anyone. Just do whatever you want. And if you want to skip the diner tonight, go ahead. Go learn how to ride a bike, for all I care. But nobody deserves to be this miserable. Just smile and keep going. You're on the path to anywhere".

Castiel closed his eyes and leaned back on the couch. For the first time in millennia, his mind was blank. He didn't know if it was because a human brain couldn't hold on to the entirety of his angelic self, or that for the first time, he had a million things in his mind at once, but his thoughts were all gone.

Well, all but one.

"Free will", he muttered, for the second time since he met Dean. He felt Dean nod. It was the first time he ever realised what these two simple words actually meant.

Yes, he wasn't an angel.

He was so much more than that.

And he could feel the future taking a million possible shapes and blurring, but for the first time, he didn't care.


	6. Roadhouse

Sam came back at four in the afternoon to find a shivering Dean covered in what seemed to be four blankets, sitting in the couch as if he hadn't even moved since this morning; despite his bad condition, he seemed to be teaching Jimmy how to play poker. Jimmy looked a little desperate, but a big smile was carved on both men's faces, and it wasn't long until it proved contagious and Sam joined in the good mood.

Sam gave Dean and Jimmy the food he'd brought – noodle soup for Dean and sweet pork with steamed rice for Jimmy – and he helped himself to his own steamed rice with vegetables. Dean could cringe all he wanted at Sam's choice of Chinese food, but at least Jimmy seemed to enjoy it. And let's face it, Sam couldn't think of anything better than noodle soup for Dean at this point.

"Ugh, I can't wait until I can eat proper food again", Dean groaned.

"You're welcome, by the way", Sam answered. "I see poker didn't do much for your mood".

"Nah, it's just the noodles", said Dean teasingly. "I'm actually pretty well".

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeap".

Sam smirked. "You spent an entire day indoors while being sick and you're okay with it?" he asked, and then turned to Jimmy. "Man, you're the best babysitter ever".

Jimmy tilted his head, like he didn't really understand the joke, but after a moment he have Sam that little smiled of his. "I didn't do anything that great", he said. "We just… spent the time".

Sam nodded, impressed. Keeping Dean entertained while he was feverish was something nobody had managed until now. Then Jimmy looked around, like he was searching for something.

"What is it?" asked Dean.

"Speaking of time… what time is it?" asked Jimmy.

Sam pulled out his cell phone and checked. "It's 5.15", he informed Jimmy, who seemed a little nervous.

"I'd better go", he said and got up. Sam was surprised; after yesterday, he kind of expected Jimmy to stick around. He didn't know why. Having him around came naturally, even though there was no possible logical explanation for that. He just… fit in with the Winchesters.

Dean blushed – seriously? – as Jimmy got up. "Look, man, you don't have to do this, okay?"

"Dean, would you please stop objecting? I'm going to be fine", said Jimmy.

Sam cleared his throat. "The truth is, you're welcome to stay for as long as you want", he announced, and to his surprise, that got him two pairs of confused eyes. "I mean, for my part, it's okay".

"What are you talking about, Sammy?" asked Dean.

Sam blinked. "Well, I'm just saying, Jimmy doesn't have to go if he doesn't have a place to stay, and—"

"Jimmy's not leaving, dude".

Sam looked at Dean and then at Jimmy, then back at Dean. "He's not?"

"No. He insisted on doing my shift tonight at the Roadhouse", explained Dean, with a hint of pink still on his cheeks.

Sam's eyes turned to Jimmy immediately. "He did what?"

Jimmy looked a little uncomfortable. "Why do both of you act like it's such a big deal?"

"Um, probably because it is", said Sam. "Why would you do that?"

"Why _not_?" asked Jimmy, with the expression of a person who has had this conversation before; Sam expected him to roll his eyes, but he didn't; truth is, Sam couldn't imagine him rolling his eyes. He looked at Dean, who just shrugged.

"Hey, don't ask me", Dean said. "I tried to talk him out of it, but I can't convince him he doesn't need to do that. Besides, who knows, it's Pamela's birthday tonight, so he might find a cool girl to spend the time", and he winked at Jimmy, who either didn't notice or didn't understand the hint in Dean's voice.

Sam could only watch as Jimmy put on Dean's red Roadhouse shirt, then Sam's hoodie and Dean's leather jacket, took Bobby's coat and left, promising to bring them dinner. Then Sam turned at Dean.

The two brothers spent a few moments in a staring contest, until Dean coughed loudly and lost. "Okay, spill it. What is it?" he asked.

Sam half-smirked. "Nothing, nothing", he said. "I'm just noticing how well you seem to fit with Jimmy. Are you sure he's just a random stranger you took in and you're not hiding something from me?"

Dean's face passed through every possible shade of red. "Are you shittin' me, Sammy?" he asked, scandalised. "I only met the guy yesterday! Since when do you think I fuck with random dudes?"

"Hey, hey, don't put words in my mouth", Sam protested, raising his hands up. "Besides, I'm not judging anyone. I'm just asking whether I have to sanitise the couch or, God forbid, a table".

He easily caught the cushion Dean threw at him. "You're nuts, dude".

"It wouldn't be weird to want to have some rebound sex, Dean", said Sam, shrugging, and threw the cushion back at Dean. "I know you don't wanna talk about Nora, but—"

"You're right, I don't", Dean interrupted and pointed a finger at Sam. "So let it go, alright?"

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but only sighed. This was Dean he was talking to; there was no chance his mulish, irritatingly stubborn head would give it up and let him freaking _talk_ for once.

Sam would just have to wait and see.

:::

Ellen looked at the kid from tip to toe. He didn't look particularly smart, but hey, you didn't need to be Einstein to serve a couple of dishes for one night, right? And he looked like a good guy, judging from the fact that, according to Bobby, he had replaced Dean without even being asked to do so. He waited patiently as Ellen circled him.

"So, what did you say your name was, kid?" she asked.

"James… Jimmy. I prefer to be called Jimmy", he replied, a little awkwardly. He didn't look like he had the best social skills, and Ellen figured that his name didn't suit him. It didn't sit well with those bottomless blue eyes and the gravelly voice. James would fit him better, she thought, but it was his decision.

"Jimmy, then", she went on with it. "Tell me, Jimmy, have you ever done this before?"

"No, ma'am. Never".

"And you still wanna do it?"

"Yes. I want to help Dean. I don't understand why everyone thinks it's so strange".

Ellen sighed. "What can I say, kid, you're a diamond in the rough", she commented. "Give me your nametag".

Jimmy obeyed. Ellen took a little white sticker she used for her filing, wrote down Jimmy's name and put it over Dean's.

"This should be okay for tonight", she stated, giving the nametag back to Jimmy and watching him pinning it on his chest pocket. "Now look here; tonight we're gonna have a group of girls who'll probably wanna get drunk as fuck and make a mess. It's a disaster Dean's not here, because he's the flirt in this damn restaurant and the girls like him. You're not half-bad lookin', but can you give 'em what they want?"

Jimmy frowned. "I didn't know erotic behaviour would be among my responsibilities for tonight", he informed Ellen hesitantly.

"Good heavens, kid, of course not!" she exclaimed. "I don't want you to do anything that extreme, just… I dunno, be a little playful around them. Give them a smile here, a wink there, a flirty comment over there… Dean's the best at that, and he's one of the reasons those girls celebrate all their birthdays here. Can you fill up his shoes?"

For a moment, Ellen was sure the kid was having a stroke. She watched him swallow what seemed like a knot in his throat, and nod slowly. He looked paler, and for a moment Ellen thought he'd just drop the job and leave. He seemed to be full of surprises, though, because in the end he muttered a small "I think so". Ellen had a sudden urge to hug the kid.

"Look, I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with, okay?" she reminded him, just in case he'd thought he was sent to work in a strip club. "Just be a little flirty, a little playful, a little… not yourself, and it'll be fine".

Jimmy nodded, obviously nervous. Ellen felt a little bad, so she gave him the warmest smile she could manage. "You're gonna be okay, kid", she encouraged him. "Off you go".

He nodded again and left, and Ellen could swear for a moment that she'd heard him murmur "I'm not a kid".

Ellen didn't say anything, but she wished him good luck under her breath.

: : :

Castiel took a deep breath before he went in the kitchen. It was alright, everything was okay; he was just getting a few new, human experiences. If he could smite demons and heal the sick and make Dean talk to him about things he kept bottled up inside since forever, then he sure as hell could step into a kitchen, talk to the cooks and the other waiters and make it until the end of the shift. He was helping Dean, he noted mentally. He was doing the right thing, and he'd do it well.

He stepped in confidently – or that's what he'd like to believe; he'd no idea whether or not he'd managed it. Four pairs of eyes turned on him, and for a moment he felt his feathers twitch angrily; this was too awkward. Then a blonde young woman smiled widely and approached him, giving him her hand.

"Hey there", she greeted him. "Dean called and told me about you. You're Jimmy, right?"

Castiel nodded. "Yes".

"Okay", said the girl, still smiling. "I'm Jo; you might remember me from yesterday. And this is Ash, our cook", a strange man with a plastic cap and an apron casually saluted from the back of the kitchen, "and this is Chuck, he's also a cook, and pretty damn good at it", Jo continued, and an unshaven man with an awkward look on his face waved at them, "and this is Becky", Jo went on, as the short blonde girl in the corner got up and gave her hand to Castiel.

"Hi", she said happily as she gripped his hand tight. "You're the one who's gonna be helping me and Jo tonight, huh? That's awesome".

Castiel blinked. "Thank you", he said, not knowing what else to say, and his voice sounded even more hoarse than usual. The girl called Becky looked at Jo.

"Oh my God, he's totally gonna make up for Dean's absence tonight", she said, her breath short and fast, for some reason Castiel didn't understand. He realised Becky was still holding his hand.

"Um… excuse me?" he asked as politely as he could. Becky looked at him and let out a short laugh.

"Whoops, silly me!" she said and let go of his hand, after stroking it a couple of times, as if she was petting her dog apologetically. Castiel saw the girl called Jo roll her eyes.

"Come on", she told him and grabbed him by the bicep, dragging him away from the others. "I'm gonna show you around a little bit before your shift starts, alright?"

It turned out Jo was a really good teacher. Castiel, determined to do his best, and not having enough human memories or information to fill up space in his brain, proved himself a fast learner. He memorised everything Jo told him at once, and took care of the first three orders (an elderly man, a pair of middle-aged women who talked about the zodiac and a teenage couple who seemed to be _actually_ drooling over each other) by himself, without missing or dropping anything. He received a friendly pat on the back from Chuck and very warm smiles from the rest.

He was confident enough, until the first girls started coming.

Pamela came first, accompanied by two other girls. Becky made sure Castiel knew the girls' names before he went out there. Pamela was wild-looking, with black hair and a constant smirk that made Castiel feel really uncomfortable. The girl on her right – Meg, Becky introduced – also had dark hair and was dressed in leather. She had a look like she was hungry, but Castiel had the impression that she wouldn't be easily satisfied with food; he doubted that's what she was looking for. The last girl had hair the colour of honey and she acted like she owned the place; if Castiel wasn't – well, _hadn't been_ – a soldier of the Lord, he might have even thought that she looked dangerous. That one was called Bela, Becky explained, and she was probably the bitchiest of them all. Castiel didn't really want to know all these things, but Becky seemed to think they were important.

It wasn't long until some more girls were added to the group, and Castiel learnt about them all under the detailed analyses of Becky. There was a confident-looking girl who Becky described as Blonde Ruby – she answered to Castiel's curious look that they called her that to tell her apart from Brunette Ruby, the girl who worked in the Roadhouse. The two Rubys happened to be cousins as well. Castiel made sure to not show his confusion.

The last ones to come were a stiff blonde woman with glasses, whom Becky introduced as Faith, the librarian, and a petite brunette with shoulder-length hair, Tessa.

"I'd say you avoid that one", suggested Becky as she balanced in her toes in order to reach Castiel's ear and whisper into it. "She's creepy. She has that look like she knows all about your secret kinks and fan fiction genres, like, I don't know, like she looks into your very soul or something".

Castiel looked at her, not exactly sure what she meant, and met her eyes. After a moment, Becky shivered and looked away.

"You know what, scratch that. You'll be fine with her".

When all six women had taken their places in the biggest booth in the diner, Castiel took a deep breath and went over. He was sure that they weren't nearly as terrifying as they seemed to him, but they had a certain attitude that made him feel more alien than ever. They were comfortable around each other, laughing loudly, making inappropriate jokes and talking about their boyfriends or recent – how did they call it? – "hook-ups". It took Castiel a while before he figured out what that meant; at first his mental image was the girls going fishing.

The six women proved to be somewhat kind to him, even though at first they asked for Dean a couple of times. When he explained he was replacing Dean, they suddenly became really friendly. They started their order with a burger for each one of them, and then the beers started coming. Every now and then they'd call Castiel over to buy a drink for him; every time he kindly refused, until Jo took him aside and suggested he accepted one of the offers, just to make them happy. Next time they offered him a beer, he did drink it, giving the girls the best smile he could manage, even though he didn't like it at all. It was bitter and made him want to sneeze.

Even though the girls had made sure they weren't on empty stomachs when they started drinking, it didn't take long until they were goofy and more playful than before. Castiel had to accept a couple more beers. After a while the girls switched to whiskey, which Castiel promised himself he wouldn't try, no matter how much the girls wanted him to.

Castiel had just walked in the kitchen, bringing the empty bottles and beer glasses, when he saw Jo collapse in a chair, sighing.

"Holy freaking shit", he heard her murmur. "Those girls are insane. It's not even ten yet and they're going nuts. I don't even know what they're gonna do afterwards".

"Do they always do this?" asked Castiel, leaving his tray in the sink, and Jo shrugged, giving him no answer. Chuck, who had just sat down, groaned as he saw the mountain of empty glasses and bottles.

"Oh God, I just finished with the dishes", he whimpered. "I swear, these women are evil and want to hurt us. There's no other explanation".

Castiel frowned at that; he'd sensed no evil. For a moment, he felt his heartbeat fasten; he truly hoped his powers hadn't started to fade already. That just wasn't fair.

"I mean", Chuck went on, before Castiel managed to say anything, "there's just six of them and they're like a freaking army. Who orders so many things at the same time?" Castiel realised the "being evil" thing must have been some kind of a joke, even though he didn't really find it funny. Chuck went on: "The burgers and the wine and the whiskey are one thing, but then it's everything else, and they just won't stop! Where the hell do they put all these things? Have you seen even _one_ of them going to the bathroom? They _must_ have the need to pee! What they're doing is inhuman!"

Castiel just nodded along with everyone else. He didn't like to think about bathroom time; he'd discovered what it was for yesterday night, and he really, really disliked it. He couldn't believe how much time humans spent in there, doing something completely disgusting, in his opinion. He told himself he'd get used to it. It was really bizarre how these people were talking casually about it, though; he'd thought it was some kind of personal time. He guessed it was just because it was something everyone had to do, so it wasn't exactly a secret. That made him feel a little better, but only a little; until recently, he wasn't _everyone_.

"Well, I'm gonna save our Jimmy", Jo's voice snapped Castiel out of his thoughts; he felt a little too thankful for that. "You stay here for a while", Jo told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm gonna take care of them".

"Thank you", said Castiel in relief. He was tired already, and that wasn't a good kind of new feeling.

Eventually, the girls asked for him again, so he had to go back. He had to refuse several offers to sit with the girls and keep them company, but he believed he managed to be polite enough. One of the girls – Meg, Castiel thought she was called Meg – stopped him on her way to the bathroom (proving Chuck wrong; the girls probably were human after all). He was glad to still have his angelic strength because he was sure, drunken young women weren't supposed to be this strong when they tried to kiss someone. He pushed her politely aside, managing to keep his smile despite his panic, and took her to the bathroom, waiting for her and making sure she was okay. Then he brought her back to her friends, complying with their request to sing "happy birthday" to Pamela with them, take some pictures of them and even be in some pictures himself. He didn't even manage to avoid receiving some kisses on the cheek during the picture-taking.

All in all, when the girls finally left to continue their noisy party somewhere else, taking with them the small crowd that had joined them, it was one in the morning and Castiel could swear he'd never been more tired in the thousands of years of his existence. His legs ached and his eyelids were heavy and oh, Lord, _his back was killing him_, and he felt a hint of despair as he saw the pile of dirty dishes Chuck and Becky hadn't managed to put in the washing machine.

"Do you need any help washing these?" he asked Chuck, pointing to the dirty dishes.

"No, man, no way", Chuck answered. "God knows what you went through today, and in your first day, of all things. You go and sit down for a while, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely, bro", said Ash and gave Castiel a thumbs-up. "We're cool here".

Castiel nodded and left the kitchen, entering the empty diner. It looked a little sad, messy and silent as it was. He saw Ellen and Bobby cleaning up after the girls and wondered whether the bosses were always supposed to clean up the place; he remembered how Jessica had worked as a waitress for a while and he was pretty sure they had another girl who did the cleaning.

At the thought of Jessica, he felt a throb in his back, and then a stabbing pain. He didn't have to think about it; he ran to the bathroom as fast as he could, hoping nobody would notice. He locked the door and removed his shirt with quick moves, knowing he didn't have much time. He brought the shirt on his mouth and bit on the fabric to muffle his scream as he felt his bone structure crack and change. He almost fell down on his knees as his wings spurt out and hit the wall, breaking a couple of tiles on impact. He panted as he tried to stand up straight.

He took a look in the mirror and wasn't sure he even saw Jimmy Novak in there, let alone Castiel. He was pale and his brow felt cold despite all the sweat. His huge wings felt pathetic as they were squeezed with him in the tiny bathroom, and for a moment he wondered why he always ended up feeling and looking at the last tiny part of his true self inside random restrooms. Maybe it would be better if he just forgot already.

He almost slapped himself. No, that was a dangerous train of thought. He was managing so far. He seemed to be better at being human than he'd originally thought, but he _was_ better at being an angel; he'd manage to go home, somehow.

He took a few deep breaths to steady himself. Okay, what he needed to do now was never let himself go for so long without giving his wings a rest again; if he hadn't managed to reach a private space in time, he'd have just exposed himself to everyone. So, from now on, give them a break a couple of times a day, he mentally noted. He concentrated, trying to make them behave and tuck themselves inside his back again. It seemed slightly harder than it had the previous day, but it was probably just because he was tired, he told himself.

As soon as he looked practically human again, he wore Dean's shirt and walked out of the bathroom, going for the kitchen, to see how the others were doing. As soon as he walked out, Ellen walked up to him.

"Are you okay, kid?" she asked, with something in her voice that sounded like compassion to Castiel. He nodded.

"Yes, I'm quite okay. Thank you", he said.

"Because I swear I heard something break in there", Ellen insisted, pointing at the bathroom with her thumb.

"Oh". Castiel felt his cheeks warm up. "I'm sorry; I seem to have tripped. There was water on the floor. I didn't mean to—"

"Oh, shut up. You're fine; that's what I care about", said Ellen, making a dismissive gesture with her hand, to Castiel's surprise. "Now, can I talk to you about something?" she asked.

"Of course".

"Okay. Look, kiddo", Ellen started, "you did a fine job tonight. I've gotta say, I'd no idea you could manage that whole thing this well. I'll be damned if you didn't keep up like a pro. So I wanted to talk to you about your payment".

"But I told you I—"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't wanna get paid because Dean yadda yadda", Ellen dismissed him. "I'm gonna make you a deal".

Castiel frowned. "I don't do well with deals, I—"

"Oh, stop talking for a moment", Ellen exclaimed. "First of all, don't you dare not keep the tips, alright? They were a product of your own work, not Dean's. So if I learn you gave the money to him, I'm gonna get pretty angry. Are we clear?"

"But—"

"Are we clear, Jimbo?"

Castiel was taken aback. "Don't call me that", he protested sheepishly. "We're clear. As long as you don't call me that again".

"Okay", Ellen agreed, not looking embarrassed at the slightest. "Second, you really did one hell of a job. I know you don't want to take money that you believe belongs to Dean, but what if – and hear me out before you snap – what if I pay you both for tonight?"

Castiel tilted his head. "I don't understand", he said. "It's Dean's job. I only worked for one night. I shouldn't get paid".

"Hell yeah, you should", Ellen snapped. "You did your job, and just this once, I'm gonna pay you both. The diner can afford it and I want to be clear with you". She took some money from her pocket, took Castiel's hand and put it in his palm, pushing his fingers over it.

"Thank you", was the only thing Castiel managed to say.

Ellen patted the back of his hand. "If you ever look for a job, we need guys like you over here, kiddo", she said, and winked at him as he left. "G'night!"

Castiel remained silent for a few moments, and then looked at the money in his hand. He looked them up close; it was the first time he actually had some of these little papers of his own. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't understand why exactly they had any value at all, but the sad truth was that he was human now, and if he wanted to survive, he'd need them. He couldn't rely on Dean and Sam Winchester forever. Even though, he admitted to himself, he would like to see them again, even after his debt to them was repaid. He truly believed they were good people, especially Dean.

He shook his head to bring himself back to reality. He'd started to notice that he was getting distracted more easily now that he was human – well, almost human. He started walking back to the kitchen, when Bobby stopped him.

"Hey, kid. Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Castiel wondered why everyone seemed to call him "kid" and why everyone wanted to talk to him tonight. What he said was: "Of course".

"I wanted to ask you a few questions", Bobby said. "Don't get me wrong or anything. But you seemed like a good fella, so I just wanted to make sure".

Castiel nodded, not knowing if he was supposed to answer something.

"What are your plans?" asked Bobby, catching Castiel off guard.

"What do you mean?" asked Castiel, genuinely confused.

"I mean, what are you planning to do tomorrow?" asked Bobby impatiently. "After you go back to the boys' home and get some sleep, what do you wanna do?"

Castiel tilted his head. "I—" he started, and realised he had no idea how to go on. "I don't know", he admitted. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I gotta say that you're by far the weirdest person I've ever seen, and I'm meeting dozens of new people every day", said Bobby. "And I don't think you deserve to go back on the streets, the way Dean found ya yesterday. So I want you to know that Dean asked me to make the apartment next to theirs ready for ya".

Castiel's jaw dropped. "What?" he uttered.

"Ya heard me", said Bobby. "But I wanna know if you're interested. If you really care about the boys, and I think ya do, and if you really wanna start a new life in Lawrence, then I'm gonna help ya. But I want ya to tell me that you really wanna do this, otherwise it's just not worth the damn time it'll take. So what d'ya think?"

Castiel just stared at him for a moment. He couldn't believe Dean would have ever put himself in such trouble for him. And most of all, he couldn't believe that all the people in the diner seemed to be happy to help him. He wondered if there was some of his angelic charm left on his human body, along with his wings and weakened powers, and if that was the reason people seemed to like him.

Bobby kept staring at him, though, so he probably wanted an answer. Castiel cleared his throat. "Mr Singer—"

"Bobby".

"Okay, Bobby…" he took a deep breath. "I swear, I really care about Dean and Sam".

"Who you only met yesterday".

Castiel nodded. "And who took me in when I needed it. They're good people, and I think that I might get lucky enough to call them friends at some point".

"I like ya so far. What about you? What are _you_ gonna do?"

"I… I want to look for a job", said Castiel, and he was surprised to realise he actually meant it; he wasn't bluffing in the slightest. "I don't know how long I'm going to be here, but I don't want to be a burden to anyone. So I can't have you make the apartment ready for—"

"Oh, shut up, it's just a hole next to Dean and Sam's", said Bobby. "I've been using it as a storage room for years, so it's got a few useful things for ya there. We can fix it and you can move in, and when ya get a job you can start paying rent, if ya still wanna live there. You'll be close to the boys, you'll have my extra stuff in a corner and you'll have a place to stay. You can paint it, fill it, redecorate it, whatever ye boys do these days, but ye can' throw away my stuff. That's all. Sound good enough for ya?"

Castiel nodded slowly, still unsure if this was actually happening to him. "Sounds perfect", he muttered. "I can't thank you enough".

"You don't need to", Bobby reassured him. "Now go home before the boys get worried. And thanks for bringing my coat".

Castiel could only smile.


	7. Dream a Little Dream of Me

Sam waited patiently next to the window, taking looks at the street below as he flipped through his favourite parts of the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. It was 2 am and Jimmy wasn't back yet, and there was not a single second that Sam didn't think about slapping himself for not giving their guest a pair of keys, so that Sam wouldn't have to stay up and wait for him. Of course, he thought, he couldn't have known that Dean would be as feverish as to fall asleep in 10.30; let alone that it didn't seem wise to give their keys to random strangers who happened to have crashed at their place for the night. Even though Sam felt like he could trust Jimmy, that key thing just didn't seem right.

At about ten past two, he noticed a figure walking down the street, and it didn't take long to recognise Dean's leather jacket. He watched curiously; Jimmy was walking absentmindedly, holding a plastic bag that steamed in the cold wind, stepping carefully, as if he didn't know how to deal with snow under his shoes (Dean's boots, if Sam wasn't mistaken; damn, the guy must have really had a bad time if he didn't even manage to take a second pair of clothes and shoes when leaving home). Sam noticed Jimmy's curious looks as he watched the slow snow falling and he was instantly reminded of Jack Skellington from that Tim Burton film; it was like Jimmy had never seen anything like it and couldn't believe how pretty it was. He was smiling like a 5-year-old.

Sam calculated how much time it would take Jimmy to reach the door downstairs and buzzed him in before he had the chance to ring the bell. He opened the door and waited for Jimmy to come up. He appeared suddenly in the stairs; how he managed to go up three stories without Sam hearing his footsteps, Sam would never know. He smiled.

"Hello, Sam", said Jimmy.

"Hey, man", Sam greeted in a low voice as he stepped aside for Jimmy to come inside. "How'd it go?"

"Surprisingly well", said Jimmy, keeping the low tone and coming in. "I am exhausted, though. I didn't think it would be so difficult to keep a group of women pleased, Sam".

Sam muffled his laughter on his cuff. "You'd be surprised", he said teasingly in the end.

"You didn't have to stay awake for my sake, Sam", Jimmy said, looking at Sam apologetically. "I am sorry if I caused you any inconvenience. You obviously need to study and get some sleep".

"Oh, don't worry about it", Sam reassured him. "I was studying until late, so I had the right to just sit and read some Sherlock Holmes until it was time to buzz you in".

Jimmy nodded and then looked at the couch, and then at the bed where Dean was sleeping. "How is he?" he asked.

"Well, he's stable at a hundred degrees", Sam informed him, "and he's been coughing like he's been sprayed with toxic gas. But he's a tough guy. Anyway, if he's not better by morning, I'll drive him to a doctor".

Jimmy nodded again. "I understand", he said.

"So… do you need anything?" asked Sam.

Jimmy gave him the plastic bag. "I brought some food, as promised, but I didn't realise it was too late for you to have dinner. I apologise", he said, with an expression that made Sam think that was a damn sincere apology.

"Don't worry about it, man", he laughed. "We'll just eat it tomorrow for breakfast. Did you get something to eat?"

"Yes, at the diner".

"Cool. So, do you need anything else?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No, thank you".

"Okay". Sam put the plastic bag inside the microwave to keep it in a proper temperature and picked his book up from the couch, where he'd left it. "I'm gonna go crash, okay? Talk to me if you need anything. Don't feel guilty about waking me or anything. Just make yourself at home".

"I will try", Jimmy promised. "Thanks for everything, Sam".

"Don't mention it, man".

And Sam sauntered to his bedroom, enjoying the blissful promise that was his warm bed.

: : :

Castiel waited a few minutes to make sure Sam was in his room and his door was locked, before he came closer and pressed his ear against the door. The only thing he heard was Sam's soft breathing and a light snore, every now and then.

Perfect.

He tiptoed back to the living room-slash-Dean's bedroom to check on Dean. He was fast asleep, looking like an enormous caterpillar, cocooned as he was under his pile of blankets. He was sweaty and pale, and Castiel felt a flutter in his heart as he saw him.

Okay. He could do it.

He quietly put Dean's leather jacket on a chair, and then took off his hoodie and Dean's diner shirt and left them on the couch. He shivered as the cold air brushed against his naked skin. He saw the few body hair he had rise up and create tiny, tiny bumps on his skin; it was something new, but he remembered vaguely seeing it happen to people, so he didn't worry about it.

Carefully, slowly, he let his wings take shape. He put every little part of himself in his effort to stay quiet; this time he had no diner noise or TV show to cover up for him. His bones and muscles and skin made a few sounds he could only describe as disgusting while they were changing and forming his extra appendages, but the sounds were slow and subtle and Dean didn't wake.

Castiel felt the cold breeze shuffle his feathers and felt a warm shiver run down his spine and make his fingertips tingle. He spread his wings behind him as much as possible, and the tingly feeling spread to his entire body, making his breathing faster. Wings were something completely ethereal; they weren't supposed to be a part of the human world. They were the point where his angelic nature met his human body, and the two mixed with a combination of unearthly sensations that made Castiel want to scream in confusion and – he wouldn't admit that to anyone – pleasure. His feathers were so sensitive that he could practically feel specks of dust on them. He stretched his wings as he approached Dean's bed; finally, he could let them spread. The room was big enough for their ten feet each. For the first time after his banishment to Earth, he actually felt comfortable.

He kneeled next to Dean's bed and folded his wings on his back. He could definitely do it, now that he could focus all his power on what he wanted and not in keeping his wings hidden. He didn't like seeing Dean this sick, and he still felt like he owed him. Dean had even tried to find him a more permanent home, next to his own, of all places. Castiel wasn't officially a guardian angel anymore, but he'd definitely keep up to his old habits.

He took a deep breath and concentrated. This would be more difficult now that he was stuck in a body of flesh, but he trusted himself; plus Dean wasn't that sick.

He started murmuring a gentle prayer as he placed his hand on Dean's forehead. A warm, subtle light emerged from his palm and embraced Dean's face like a halo.

Dean didn't wake up; he just smiled in his sleep.

: : :

_Dean was walking in the dark, feeling his way out of a narrow corridor. He was scared as fuck; every now and then he'd hear a manic laugh coming from everywhere. It sounded suspiciously like the fake laughter Nora made when she played what Dean called the Evil Queen of Everything; when she won at cards, or when she managed to startle Dean. This was supposed to be something funny; why did it make him so upset now?_

_He ran and ran and he was getting more and more scared. He didn't even have room to move his elbows. His skin was on fire, but his muscles were freezing and his very core was burning like lava and shaking like a leaf in the wind._

_He tried to shout, but no voice came to his throat._

_It must have been a dream. These things happen only in dreams._

_He'd wake up soon._

_He didn't wake up._

_Panicking, he kept running. It was dark and terrifying, except for a little light up ahead. _

_Great. With my luck, it's gonna be a fucking oncoming train, thought Dean._

_Well, he had no choice. He ran towards the light. As he approached, he felt warmer. Not in a bad, burning way; in a subtle, caring kind of way. He liked it._

"_Who are you?" he asked the light. He somehow knew it had a name._

"_Dean", the light called at him. "Don't be scared. I'm here now"._

_The voice Dean heard was coming from a hundred different places, and it sounded ever-changing. He couldn't tell if it was a male or female voice, but he felt it going down to his core._

"_Why are you here?" Dean asked, unable to think of anything else._

"_Because I have no other choice", answered the light. "And because I want to"._

"_Not because I'm dreaming about you?" asked Dean, and he knew how foolish he sounded, but hey, it was a dream after all._

"_I didn't expect you to dream about me, but that's alright", said the light and came closer. "Do you trust me, Dean?"_

_Dean hesitated. "Yes", he said. "But I don't know why"._

"_Because you're following your heart", said the light. "Thank you for doing that for me"._

"_Are you a ghost?" Dean asked suspiciously. "Do I know you?"_

"_I'm not a ghost, Dean. I'm an angel"._

_Yeah, I'm definitely dreaming, thought Dean. _

"_And what are you doing inside my dream?" he asked._

"_I'm taking care of you", it stated simply and then Dean felt warm all over, and for a moment he was blinded by the light, but he didn't care. He was feeling content and happy, and he didn't want to wake up. He looked straight at the light, not caring about its brightness._

"_Time to stop dreaming now, Dean", the light said gently and it faded, before Dean could manage to say anything. The place went dark again, but he was sure he caught a glimpse of two expressive blue eyes as the light faded away; two eyes that seemed somehow familiar._

: : :

Dean woke up from the heat. His body was burning and it was covered in sweat all over. He was sure he was about to faint. He quickly removed his blankets and sighed as he sat up, feeling the chilly winter air stroking his skin. He looked around. Everything looked pretty normal. He took the alarm clock in his hand; it was 7.05. He cursed under his breath. There was no chance he'd go back to sleep after this heated nightmare.

Nightmare.

Huh. He frowned as he tried to recall the dream he had before. His heart fluttered as he tried to bring it back to his memory, and he felt warm and fuzzy all over, but he couldn't remember it to save his life. He shrugged and left the alarm clock back on the table. He looked around and, inevitably, his gaze fell on Jimmy sleeping on the couch.

He didn't know why, but he got up and walked slowly to the couch, careful not to wake Jimmy. He peeked at him, curled up in his covers, showing only his face from the nose up, sleeping like a baby pet or something. Dean made a concerned grimace; okay, that was disturbing. Since when had he been thinking about Jimmy as something cute you got to keep in your house?

As he kept staring, he realised he hadn't been awake when Jimmy got back from the diner last night, and hadn't thanked him properly. He decided it was a good thing he'd woken up this early, and went to the kitchen to make a lot of filter coffee and, why not, breakfast. It had been a while since he'd last enjoyed a proper breakfast, and that was at the diner. It was about time he remembered how to make French toast. He had about half an hour before Sammy woke up; it was more than enough.

To Dean's satisfaction, everything went according to plan. He heard Sam's alarm clock from the bedroom and the angry smash that always followed the ringing. He counted to eight, nine, ten and Sam was tottering out of his room, rubbing his eyes and shuffling his hair.

"Rise and shine, Sammy", greeted Dean as he put the French toast in plates.

"Mmmmmornnin'", Sam mumbled as he dragged himself to the bathroom. He reached the door and then blinked and turned his sleepy gaze on Dean. "Whazzat smell?"

"I made breakfast", Dean shrugged. "Now move along, you don't wanna be late".

"'ctin' like m'parent, for Chrissake", Dean heard Sam mumble as he closed the bathroom door, and smiled to himself. Sam was fucking annoying when he'd just woken up, but Dean knew he'd be fine as soon as he had a shower and a shave and a good teeth brushing. He was right. His brother came back fifteen minutes later, looking fresh and new.

"Dean, this is great", Sam commented when he leaned on the bar, eating his French toast. "I mean, I've no freaking idea why you did it, but it's great".

"Yeah, I guess I was just in the mood", Dean said absentmindedly as he took a sip from his coffee.

"Weren't you supposed to be sick?" asked Sam.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I thought I was. I just… I don't know, I woke up and I was feeling fine. I'm just this awesome, I guess".

"Or you were snoring so loudly that even the germs moved out", suggested Sam with his professor look on and Dean laughed, rolling his eyes. He let his gaze travel in the room.

He frowned, looking at the pile of sleeping Jimmy on the couch. Damn, Jimmy must have been exhausted. Even after all the munching and walking about the house and Sam's animalistic groan after stubbing his toe on a chair, Jimmy didn't wake. Well, Dean could wait, but he didn't want him to find his French toast cold.

He mentally slapped himself for being that sensitive and looked at Sam, who was already finished with breakfast and pouring his coffee in a thermos.

"Hey, aren't you gonna stay a little longer?" Dean complained.

"Jesus, what's up with you today?" asked Sam, giving his brother a lopsided smile. "I've got class, Dean. I need to go. I mean, thanks for the awesome breakfast and all, but I didn't know you'd do all this. If I knew, I'd have woken up earlier so that we could hang out a little".

Dean pouted. "Yeah, okay. Sorry, I just work all the time and you're studying and we barely hang out anymore, you know?"

"Dean, are you cuddly today or is it just me?"

Dean straightened up. "Oh, shut up". Sam laughed, obviously amused.

"If you dare mock me again for being a big girl, I swear to God—"

"Yeah, yeah, screw you very much, Sammy", said Dean, hiding his crooked smile behind his mug. Sam's smile widened even more.

"Okay, I'll see you tonight, honey", he teased and ducked as Dean threw him a kitchen roll. "See ya!"

"Yeah_, talk to that girl you've been staring at for the past couple of weeks!_" Dean shouted back at Sam as he waved through the door.

He shook his head, half-smiling. Then he heard the shuffling from the couch.

"Dean?" came the gravelly murmur.

"Good morning, sunshine", said Dean loudly. "Sleep well?"

Jimmy sat up and rubbed his eyes, nodding. He got up and stretched his arms and back, producing a symphony of cracks that made Dean shudder. He walked to the bathroom while Dean was trying not to comment on the messy mop of dark hair on his head. He got out a few minutes later, looking a little better than before, but still pretty tired.

"Are you okay, man?" asked Dean.

Jimmy nodded. "Yes, I'm just exhausted from yesterday night. I didn't think I would need this much sleep. It is… disturbing".

Dean laughed. "Well, it's kind of expected from you when you work this much while not being used to this kind of job, dude", he commented.

"If you say so", said Jimmy. He sniffed the air, making a pleased little noise that Dean appreciated a little too much. "It smells wonderful", Jimmy observed.

"Thanks. I made breakfast", Dean announced, his heart subtly fluttering with anticipation, even though he wouldn't admit it not even to himself.

To his disappointment, Jimmy just nodded. "That's nice", he said and headed back to the couch. Dean frowned.

"It's gonna be here if you're hungry", he said, a little snappier than he intended to.

To his surprise, Jimmy looked at him with an expression of sheer wonder. "What, you made for me too?" he asked, like Dean had just offered him a pot of leprechaun gold.

Dean blinked. "Of course I made for you too, you dumbass", he said with a lopsided smile. Why on earth would he say he'd make breakfast if he wasn't inviting Jimmy to share it with him? "Come here".

Dean had to fight the feeling of not getting enough of Jimmy's genuine smile as he did come closer, gently sniffing the air, as if he wanted to just let go and smell the scent of food like crazy, but was just restraining himself. Dean couldn't help a smile when he handed Jimmy a plate of French toast and saw him tasting it like it was the first time; his smile became wider when Jimmy closed his eyes and let out a little, borderline indecent moan.

"This is amazing, Dean", he commented, his mouth still full, and Dean couldn't help a small laugh.

"It's nothing, but I'm happy that you like it, dude", he said. "I was feeling a little better, so I said, what the hell, let's do something good with my time".

"And I'm happy to see you are well again", Jimmy said; he had a mysterious look on his face that Dean couldn't decipher. "And thank you for this; you really shouldn't have put yourself in trouble for me".

Dean rolled his eyes. "Man, you endured Pamela's birthday for me yesterday. That counts for something. Just eat it and accept that you're not the only one that needs to say thanks here. And that says something, because I'm just not a 'thanks' person".

"That was nothing, really", Jimmy mumbled. "Not compared to—"

"Look, I'm gonna stop you right there", Dean interrupted. "Let's just accept that we're gonna keep doing nice stuff for each other, right? So let's agree on the fact that the thanks are assumed from now on. Okay?"

Jimmy's half-smile became a little wider. "Yes, that would be nice", he agreed and Dean smiled.

"Okay", he agreed. "So how was it last night?" he asked while pouring Jimmy some coffee.

"Tiring", Jimmy admitted as he took the mug of coffee in his hands and nodded in gratitude. "I could never believe how demanding this job is. At least your co-workers were really nice; they welcomed me and helped me very much".

"Did Becky do the hand thing?" Dean asked. "The one where she just grabs it and doesn't let go until you tell her to stop because it's freaking weird?"

"Yes", Jimmy exclaimed, as if he just recalled it. "She's really friendly, but she made me a little uncomfortable. She was sharing with me a lot of information about the customers, and I was completely unaware of what use I could ever have for it".

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, she does that. But she's actually quite nice. What else?"

"Well…" Jimmy took a sip from his coffee and made a grimace, then looked around for the sugar, added a spoonful, tasted it again and slightly nodded to himself before he went on. "Ellen insisted on paying me after the work was done. Of course, she won't take it from your payment", he added quickly, as if he was afraid that Dean would tell him off. "And Bobby suggested that I… I move to the apartment next to yours".

Dean was sure he was beaming. "That's awesome!" he exclaimed. "I mean, I'd told him it would be an idea to let you sleep for a while over there, but it needs to be fixed and…" he cleared his throat. "I mean, are you really planning on moving in here?"

Jimmy shrugged. "I think so. I mean, I don't have anywhere else to go, right? And people are so honestly kind here. I like that. Staying here would please me".

Dean laughed; he didn't know if it was the essay-speaking or the joy to have Jimmy settled there, but he didn't think he cared. He was just happy. "That's great, man", he said. "Cause let me tell you, this is a great place to make a new start. You're gonna like it here".

"I already like it here, Dean", said Jimmy, his half-smile still on. All Dean could do was smile back.

"So, do you wanna go take a look at the place?" he asked. "I've got the keys; Bobby gave them to me about a year ago, so that I could take care of the place every now and then. I've been terrible at that. So what do you think?"

Jimmy seemed to think about it. "Are you sure it's possible? I mean, do you have permission?"

Dean made a "ppfft" noise. "Oh, come on. Bobby told you to come and live there, and I've got the keys. Plus, I've got the day off today. It's a great chance to go and fix a few things, and see what else you need in order to actually live in there. Just finish your food and we'll go check on it. Okay?"

Jimmy nodded; Dean liked to think it was a bit more enthusiastic than the other times. He looked at him for a moment and Jimmy smiled, his eyes bright with expectancy. Dean suddenly remembered.

These eyes. He'd seen them before. And not here, not now, not in the way his logic was telling him; because yeah, of course he'd seen them before. But this was something else entirely. He cleared his throat.

"Jimmy?"

Jimmy looked up. "Yes, Dean?"

Dean didn't really know what to say. He felt a little stupid for even starting this conversation. But he couldn't make up a lie to tell Jimmy; or, well, he didn't want to.

"Have you ever, uh…"

_Yeah, what "have you ever"? "Have you ever appeared in my dreams as a huge-ass light source claiming to be an angel?" Grow up, Dean, _Dean thought and cleared his throat again, like something was choking him. "Have you ever had a really intense dream?" he asked in the end. "Like, one that you can't explain and feels too real, even though it makes no sense. And there's a person you know in there, only in a role that's really unexpected, because you sure as hell didn't expect to see that person in there. Have you ever had that?"

Jimmy frowned. "No", he stated simply and took a sip of his coffee. Dean felt really ridiculous for a moment. "I'm not even entirely sure I understand what you mean", Jimmy added. "But I wish I had such an experience. It seems interesting".

Dean chuckled, without really knowing why. He was starting to think Jimmy would always make him feel good in some way.

He was really happy he got to keep the guy around.

: : :

It turned out to be a really, really long morning. Dean gave Castiel some old clothes of his to wear while they were cleaning the apartment; he also made a comment about Castiel needing to buy some clothes of his own soon, but Castiel was sure that he caught Dean staring at him and smiling a couple of times, when he thought he wasn't being noticed. He couldn't understand exactly why, but he liked it.

He was more than sure now that Dean was a good person. Last night's adventure in Dean's dream had been… unique. He'd healed people before, but Dean was really something else. Castiel believed it was partly because of his earth-affected, fading powers, but he was really surprised when Dean's soul managed to force direct contact with his Grace. He had intended to heal Dean from his sickness and take his leave from his personal space without ever being noticed; Dean, however, had somehow managed to take a peek at Castiel's true form – well, the _memory_ of his true form, as he had an actual human body now, or the angelic equivalent of it. For a moment, Castiel had been terrified that he'd somehow harm Dean, but there was no need to worry; they were, in fact, inside a dream, and angelic Grace couldn't damage a human soul as it did a human body. And not only Dean wasn't scared of Castiel, but he had actually seemed to be interested in him, and Castiel could only assume that Dean remembered the dream the next morning. What wouldn't he give to be able to tell him that he didn't need to worry about the intensity of it, it was just his soul being surprised to be healed by an almost fallen angel, but… well, that was what his life was going to be like from then on. At least he got to actually speak face to face to the person he was healing now and be something more than just a shadow in the furthest corner of his consciousness.

And speak he did.

Not that he had many stories of his own to share with Dean, of course, but he listened with genuine interest as Dean was being reminded of various events of his childhood; searching through the dusty belongings of one of his father's oldest friends brought back memories of events long forgotten. He started talking enthusiastically the moment they opened the creaky door to Castiel's new apartment, when he glimpsed at a model of a '76 Jeep CJ Dean's father had made for Bobby out of empty cans when he got married. Bobby, Dean remembered, had made a model of his '67 Chevy Impala and given it to him at his wedding as retaliation. In the end, John – Dean's father – had kept the model and Dean had kept the actual car, since John preferred to travel by other means these days. Since he got rid of his drinking problem, he'd spent about a year taking the plane and train from one place to the other, happy to have restarted his life. It did cause Sam and Dean some financial problems, but in the end, Dean was excusing his father; he said it was like he'd been reborn. Sam wasn't so happy, but Dean wouldn't talk about it more. "There's no chance Sammy won't tell you about it sometime", was the only thing he said in the matter.

The stories went on and on and Castiel listened. Dean stopped many times to ask him if he was bored, or to apologise for talking this much, but Castiel reassured him he didn't mind, and he was indeed telling the truth. He'd been positioned in Earth for millennia, and even though he didn't take particular interest in human activities because he was always too occupied with the care of one particular charge or a family to pay attention to the exact acts, but he was vaguely familiar with the impact the small events had in human lives. He'd never imagined the scale of their importance, though. He couldn't believe how many small details a human mind could store, and he definitely couldn't believe the emotion that coloured Dean's voice as he spoke of his childhood and his broken home and all his bittersweet memories. Castiel had never seen anything more beautiful.

Meanwhile, Dean was showing Castiel around and managing the place. The apartment was exactly the same as Dean and Sam's; one big room, probably meant to be a living room, a kitchen separated from it by a simple bar, a small bathroom and one bedroom. It was half-filled with hundreds of things Bobby had in his old place, Dean explained, when he had a big house in Sioux, South Dakota. He'd left it when his wife Karen died several years ago. He came to Lawrence so that he could at least have a friendly face around and moved to a studio apartment of his own; a rich uncle of his wife's had left them with three of them, one near the diner and these two.

Dean and Castiel made a list of everything in the apartment, finding most of the things that Castiel would need to start a life in here. The place was already furnished, even if it was with a Spartan simplicity; it had a bed, a couch, a table, a fridge that was surprisingly still working when Dean connected the electricity again, a couple of chairs, even a microwave oven. Dean managed to pull a huge trunk out of the piles of random stuff, and found sheets, towels, curtains, all in need of a triple wash, maybe, but good enough nonetheless; he assumed they were here since the time Karen died and they reminded Bobby too much of her to keep them where he could see them. He was also really excited to find Bobby's old bike under the piles, and almost had a heart attack when Castiel told him he didn't know how to ride it. Dean promised to teach him as soon as they were finished with fixing the place.

Generally, all that the apartment needed was a good cleaning and tidying up, Dean concluded. It would take a while to figure out what to do with some stuff, he said, like the shotguns (Bobby used to go hunting) and the car parts and the huge collections of VCR tapes – because there was no VCR around, or a television, for that matter – but all in all, they could pile them up in the bedroom, maybe use that part of the house as a storage room and keep the rest for Castiel to live in, since there was only one of him.

Eventually, they managed to pull most things out in the hallway. Dean laughed his heart out when Castiel stuck a paper on each side of the pile of dusty old things, writing "sorry for the inconvenience" on them; even when he explained he did it so that they wouldn't have to apologise for blocking the hall to each of the other residents individually, Dean didn't stop laughing. Eventually, Castiel smiled too. He didn't think Dean's was the bad kind of laughter.

Dean brought plastic gloves and mops and brooms and several other cleaning products Castiel didn't know the names of. He also brought them a pair of bandanas to wear around their faces so they wouldn't inhale all the dust. He looked very disappointed when Castiel just tilted his head as a response to his re-enactment of a bank robbery in the 19th century America. Apparently, it was something that was considered funny and Castiel felt a little bad for not knowing about it; he promised himself he'd find out why Dean seemed to like it so much.

It took a long time before the apartment was actually clean, but as Castiel wiped the sweat from his brow, he figured it was worth it. The place looked much better, even empty as it was, with the long shelves free to welcome new stuff on them and without the several-years-dust layer and the spiders on the walls. When he mentioned that Bobby had given him permission to do whatever he wanted with the place, Dean's face lightened up and he asked Castiel what his favourite colour was, and whether he liked to draw. He looked at Dean for a second and decided he liked cool colours; green, especially. He shrugged when he considered the drawing part. He'd never tried to draw, but angels were supposedly the guardians of the arts; hence the legends about the harps in Heaven – plus the Nine Muses of Greek mythology were in fact nine pretty narcissistic angels. So Castiel assumed he might have the ability to draw. Dean nodded enthusiastically at that, wore his hoodie – something that made Castiel a little sad; he believed his simple T-shirt made Dean look really nice – took his leather jacket and announced they were taking a half-hour break. Then he left, almost running.

Castiel didn't complain. All the physical exhaustion had made his wings throb inside his back. He went to the bedroom, enjoying the smell of cleanness, and let them out to stretch.

Dean was very accurate in his timing. Castiel heard his friend's heavy footsteps on the stairway just in time to tuck his wings back in and cover himself. To his surprise, Dean came back with his face all red from the freezing wind outside, holding three big buckets of paint and two smaller ones, plus brushes and painting rolls.

"These are for you", he said, beaming. "Consider them a welcome gift. This is turk- terq- some kind of bright blue with a funny French name, this is dark green, and this is yellow, so you can mix them up and make your own colours. The small ones are black and white, just in case you wanna draw cartoons on your walls".

Castiel's jaw dropped. His words seemed to have completely abandoned his brain. He'd never thought something so small, so… human could make him this happy.

"Dean—"

"Oh, shut up. We agreed that thanks are assumed", winked Dean. "Wanna get started?" he asked, raising the buckets in his hands.

"Oh, you have no idea", Castiel exclaimed, surprising even himself, and grabbed the buckets, running towards the closest wall, while Dean was laughing.

The rest of the day passed really quickly. Sam came home at four in the afternoon only to panic at the amount of work his brother and their guest had put them all into. Castiel noticed how Sam instantly assumed it was his job to help, too, but he didn't say anything. An agreement was an agreement, and to be honest, _he_ wouldn't like it either if Dean was the one thanking him all the time for his help in the diner or for healing him – assuming he lived in a world where Dean knew that Castiel had healed him, of course. So he just nodded along and accepted the food and time out Sam was offering them gratefully.

The painting of the walls finished very easily after Sam joined them. Being taller than both of them and quick with his hands, he was a great help. By nightfall, the rooms were painted green and blue and a whole new colour Castiel invented while playing with the paint. The things had been pushed and carried back inside, the apartment was locked again with the windows open for the smell to fade, and Castiel was back at the boys' apartment. They were all pretty exhausted, but Dean and Sam seemed to find the fact that they were covered in paint and dirt very amusing, and even though Castiel didn't understand exactly why, he joined in the good mood.

After eating dinner (something that looked funny but turned out to be really tasty, and which Sam had called "scrambled eggs"), Dean suggested they all took a shower and went to sleep. Sam ran to the bathroom first, declaring that he wouldn't let Dean use up all the hot water, plus he hadn't studied at all today and he'd stay up a couple of hours before he went to bed, so he'd better start as soon as possible. Castiel didn't really understand why Dean called his little brother a bitch over something like that and he was about to protest, but Dean looked pretty satisfied when Sam called him a jerk.

He just assumed he still had too many things to learn about humans. And for some reason, that thought didn't make him as sad as he'd have thought some days ago.


	8. Dream a Bigger Dream of Me

Castiel waited patiently.

Dean had gone to sleep a couple of hours ago, feeling feverish again. Castiel couldn't stop mentally slapping himself for letting his disappointment and surprise show on his face when he heard Dean wasn't completely well. Of course, Dean had just laughed it off, saying it was perfectly normal for him to be a little feverish; that's what going over your head all day would do to you, he said. But Castiel was feeling really bad for not managing to pull off a task as simple as to heal his friend's fever.

So he waited until Sam went to sleep too.

Until now, it looked like it would take a while, but Castiel didn't mind staying up. He wasn't sure whether he liked sleeping or not. He had indeed felt very refreshed after sleeping the previous couple of nights, but time passed too quickly and distant memories came back to him. He preferred to focus on here and now; he didn't want to be reminded of what he once had. And since his body didn't need as much sleep as a normal human body, he was okay with staying awake for a while. Besides, he liked Sam's book, and he really wanted to understand why the Persian didn't go and talk to Christine and make her understand Erik's story. He really felt sorry for Erik; he reminded him of one of his old charges, and he felt even sadder when he realised he didn't remember his name anymore. He remembered everything else about him, but not his name.

He sighed, closing the book and getting up. The light under Sam's door had faded a few minutes ago, and Castiel hadn't heard the turning of a page for some time now. He checked for possible sounds from Sam's room again and, sure that he was asleep, he unfurled his wings and kneeled next to Dean's bed.

: : :

_Dean was walking in the dark corridor again, but this time he wasn't scared at all. He saw the bright light from afar, and this time he didn't hesitate. He ran towards it, hoping to get a good look at it this time. He wasn't sure if that thing was indeed an angel, but he wanted to know why it was in his dream and why the hell it reminded him of Jimmy. _

_He felt the familiar warmth the moment he came close enough._

"_You're back", Dean stated, a little bit more enthusiastically than he'd like to. _

"_Yes, I am", said the light, and Dean could swear there was a surprised smile somewhere in there. "Do you mind me being here?" it asked._

_Dean frowned in confusion. "Aren't you an angel? I mean, aren't you supposed to go wherever the hell you want? Why are you asking permission?"_

"_Because this is your mind, and if you don't want me here, then I shall take my leave", said the light. _

"_That's weird"._

"_It may be, to you. But it's the truth"._

_Dean remained silent for a while, just enjoying the warmth of the light._

"_Are you really an angel?" he asked in the end. "Or am I just dreaming random crap? Because this whole thing feels too real to be a dream and I'm telling you, I'm confused as fuck. So if you're like a game of my imagination, I'd like to know. And if you're the real thing… well, I sure as hell would like to know"._

_Dean could swear the light smiled. Well, I'm happy it finds my confusion amusing, he thought._

"_I am indeed an angel. Not the best example of one, but I still am one", it said._

_Dean didn't exactly understand why, but he believed what he heard. "Am I in trouble for cursing so much in front of you?" he asked._

_The angel laughed and Dean had never heard anything more beautiful. "They are just words, Dean. Your faith or your personality isn't in the words you use, but in the way you use them. So don't be afraid. I don't want you to be afraid of me. I'm only here to help"._

"_Why would you want to help me?" Dean asked. "No offence, but I'm not used to people helping me out of nowhere, let alone angels, so…" he sighed. "Are you like… my guardian angel?"_

_He still couldn't see any characteristics, but he somehow knew the light – the angel – looked sad._

"_I'm afraid not", it said. "Very few people have their own, personal guardian angels, Dean, and you're not one of them"._

_Dean nodded, but then he frowned. "So you mean some people do, and I don't?"_

"_I'm afraid so"._

"_Does Sammy have one?" Dean wondered for a moment if the angel knew his brother's name and whether he should explain, but the angel didn't look confused._

"_Not that I know of"._

_Dean felt a little angry. "Why not? What makes the others so special?"_

_The angel –if that's really what it was – hesitated. "Nothing", it admitted. "Thousands of years ago, demons and angels weren't so different as they are now. They all made deals with humans. So some people who were too afraid to die made deals with angels to protect them and their families, so some of us serve the descendants of those who made the deals. Each member of their family has their own angel looking after them. But there are many of us scattered in the world, taking care of everyone at the same time, and since the deals have started to fade away, there are less and less of us protecting each particular person separately. We are here as a whole, looking after all of you, without paying more attention to some more than the others"._

_Dean thought about it for a moment. "That's good, I guess", he commented in the end. "I mean, that deal thing didn't seem fair to begin with". Then Dean thought about the angel's words. "Wait a sec. Did you say demons?"_

"_Yes, Dean. Demons are real, too"._

_Dean didn't exactly know how to react to that. He knew that he should probably be terrified, or at least a tiny bit worried, or shocked that supernatural creatures seemed to actually exist and visit him in his dreams, but somehow his angel's energy was so comforting and soothing that he couldn't worry about anything. He could only feel a vague interest in what the angel was saying, but he didn't feel like there was anything in particular to be scared of; he was just curious to hear more._

"_So, if you're not a guardian angel", he started, "why are you here? Shouldn't you be out there, killing demons and stuff?"_

"_I __**am**__ a guardian angel, Dean", the angel said. "Just not yours in particular. And if any demons happen to approach, I shall smite them. But I can do more than that. Simple things. I've spent my entire existence helping people, taking care of them. It's what I do. And I think you deserve to have someone look after you for once, after having spent your entire life hitherto taking care of others"._

_Dean blinked in surprise. "Wait…" he started awkwardly. "Do you mean Santa has sent me an angel because I've been on the good list? Do these things actually happen?"_

"_Nobody sent me, Dean. I'm here because I want to", said the angel and then hesitated. "Well, to be completely honest with you, at first I was sent to Earth against my will. But I thought that I might as well do what I do best while I'm here, right? And I don't think anyone deserves it more than you"._

_Dean remained silent for a moment. Could this actually be true?_

"_Thank you. I guess", he said awkwardly, not knowing how to deal with an angel who wanted to help him for no apparent reason. "I don't want to burden you, though. Are you sure you've got nothing better to do? Maybe, someone more important than me to protect?" he asked._

"_You're not burdening me, Dean", said the angel softly. For some reason, Dean liked it when the angel used his name. "I like being here. I'm surprised you listen to me. I've never talked about myself before and I have no idea how to do it. I hope I'm not boring you"._

_Dean laughed. "Are you kidding? These are the most interesting dreams I've had in a while"._

"_Thank you", said the angel. "Because I'm having a good time"._

"_Yeah, me too. I'd like you to stay"._

"_Then stay I will"._

_Dean smiled. Then he thought about his condition for a while. Had he just given permission to a supernatural being to stay inside his head? What if it was a trick? For the first time, he felt a little scared._

"_So… can I ask you something?" he asked. _

"_Anything"._

"_What happens now? Do I just carry you around in my head? Are you gonna be listening to everything I do? Or are you just gonna chat with me in my sleep?"_

"_You make me sound like an old pervert, Dean"._

"_You're the one creeping inside my dream"._

"_True"._

"_So what happens now?" Dean asked again._

"_Whatever you want. I'm just here to heal you. I told you, I didn't expect you to talk to me in the first place. But I can assure you, I don't live inside your head or any other part of your body and I have no intention whatsoever to start doing so. I'm perfectly comfortable outside it. In fact, you're the one doing the peeking here. Your soul was too curious to take a look at my true form"._

"_Do you mean that you have another form?" asked Dean._

"_I have many forms, but this is the one I prefer so far. It's the most comfortable for me. Even though I've come to like one I had to try recently. But I'll stick to this one while we're in your dream, if you don't mind"._

"_I don't think I do", said Dean quickly. He really didn't. This light was amazing, regardless his momentary worry. Damn, he had so many questions to ask. "I always thought angels were like, really beautiful people with white wings and halos and such crap", he said awkwardly, mentally slapping himself for his language._

"_I do have wings", the angel informed him, without looking particularly insulted. "You can't see them now, as you can't see my face, but they're here"._

"_So you've never been a winged human, huh?" said Dean, a small disappointed smile on his face. He'd really like to see that._

_The angel took a while before he answered. "As a matter of fact, I have", he said hesitantly. "It's… interesting. But don't imagine mantles or halos or harps and golden curls. That's just the legends. My wings are… well, they're black. And I've never played a harp in my really, really long life"._

_Dean's eyes widened. "Your wings are black?" _

_The angel sounded a little embarrassed. "Yes"._

"_This sounds really, really awesome", Dean commented. He meant it. He'd kill to see that. "Much cooler than the white thing"._

"_Thank you, Dean", said the angel modestly, sounding a bit relieved. _

_They stayed silent for a while, but it wasn't awkward. Dean had many questions to ask, but the angel's energy was so warm and comforting that he didn't want to ruin it. And he had just realised he was talking to some kind of ancient, celestial being, and the thought of being annoying had just crossed his mind._

_Then the angel spoke._

"_So, are you feeling any better, Dean?"_

_Dean realised that he really was. "Yes", he said, surprised. "I don't think I'm sick anymore"._

"_I'm happy to hear that"._

"_So what, your job here is done?" Dean asked, hoping he didn't sound desperately disappointed. "You'll come only when I'm sick?"_

"_That was the plan, yes", said the angel, sounding a little surprised. "Unless…" he stopped._

"_Unless what?" Dean asked eagerly._

"_Unless you want me to act otherwise"._

"_Would you come if I asked you to?"_

"_I would, yes. I enjoy your company"._

_Dean didn't know why he felt so happy and flattered. "I like having you around, too", he said. "Will you be coming often?"_

"_I will try", the angel promised, but then the light shimmered and Dean frowned._

"_What's happening?" he asked. "Are you leaving?"_

"_I'm… I'm being summoned", the angel said, sounding extremely surprised._

"_What?"_

"_I've got to go", he said. "I'm sorry, Dean"._

"_Wait!" Dean shouted as the light grew thinner. "Will you come back?"_

"_I will, I promise". The light looked even more distant now._

"_How can I look for you?" Dean shouted after his angel._

"_You can't, Dean". He could barely hear him now._

"_What's your name? I don't even know your name", he yelled desperately._

_It took a second before the angel answered. "My name's Cas—"_

_And then the light disappeared and Dean felt like he was splashed with a bucket of cold water._

Dean inhaled loudly as he jumped awake. He panted, realising he was soaked in cold sweat. Man, his dreams were getting weirder and weirder. He wiped his brow on his sleeve, and realised he was feeling hot again. Probably his fever was down.

He frowned, remembering more and more of his dream. Seriously, what was wrong with him? His dreams were too realistic; so much it almost scared him. And how could he ever think the angel had Jimmy's eyes? It was probably because Jimmy had made an impression to him, he thought. But where had the angel part of his dream come from? He'd never thought about stuff like that before.

He chuckled as he remembered more and more of his dream. "Cas". Damn, that was one ridiculous name for an angel. He'd expected something impressive, something like _Sachiel, _or _Samandriel,_ or something. He mentally smacked his limited imagination. His dreams would be much more interesting if his subconscious spent a little more time developing the characters.

Well, he was wide awake now. Third time in a row, he reckoned with a hint of annoyance. He decided to go to a quick bathroom visit and go back to trying to sleep properly. He wondered if he'd see his angel again in his sleep, a little more eagerly than he'd ever admit. Getting up, he took a look at the couch. Jimmy was fast asleep, covered in his blankets almost entirely. A warm feeling of fondness planted itself in Dean's chest without any warning. He shook it off and went for the bathroom.

He stopped mid-way.

It couldn't be.

He bent down and picked up the small object. His heart started racing as he traced the silken little thing with his fingers. He looked around, alarmed, but there was nothing there.

Panicking, he opened the window and threw the long, black feather out.


	9. Reunion

Castiel struggled to resist the violent force pulling him away from Dean. It couldn't be. The other angels couldn't possibly be contacting him. It was too early, too sudden. He wondered if he had broken any major rules by talking to Dean in his sleep, and he felt a hint of panic in his chest. He flapped his wings wildly as he tried to escape the vortex of dimensions that was leading him to his summoner.

Then the force weakened and Castiel landed violently on his back somewhere hard, wet and freezing. He groaned and looked around; there were trees and a street lamp, and lots and lots of snow. He jumped up as he felt the snow creeping under his clothes and between his feathers, and looked around frantically, shaking himself.

He was in an empty park. It was quiet and he thought it could easily be a nice place for either a romantic date or a murder. And he knew which one seemed more probable at the moment. His wings formed a defensive arch above his head, his instincts working full capacity. He wouldn't go down easily. And then…

"Whoa, look at that! A snow angel made by a real angel! What do you know".

Castiel turned around fast as a lightning, his senses tingling with what seemed like recognition to the voice, even though he'd never heard it before.

Not like this, anyway.

And, sure thing, there he was; the owner of the voice and the one who summoned him, obviously. He was standing there with a satisfied smirk and his hazel eyes glowing, his fair-coloured hair covered in snowflakes. If Castiel wasn't so surprised, he'd have laughed at the irony of the man's small height, because he would feel the familiar, incredibly powerful Grace he was radiating pouring all over him.

It seemed impossible.

"Gabriel", Castiel muttered, his voice choking in his throat. The other man smiled wide.

"Hello, little bro", he said enthusiastically and, without any warning whatsoever, he came forward quickly and gave Castiel a warm hug. Castiel remained motionless for a second, not knowing how to react. Then he reciprocated, feeling his heartbeat rise by the second. When Gabriel pulled away, still smiling, Castiel gave him a good look.

"You're alive", he stated.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm alive. What did ya think?"

"You were gone for thousands of years!"

"I was having fun for thousands of years", Gabriel corrected and gave Castiel a wink. Then he slapped him lightly in the shoulder and threw him his coat. "Come on, tuck those coal monsters back in, cover yourself and let's go sit somewhere. I've been looking forward to the day that someone interesting came to Earth for_ centuries_".

: : :

Castiel couldn't believe his eyes.

Yes, he had thought about contacting Gabriel, if that was possible, but he didn't have much hope. What he had told Dean was true; his big brother was extremely clever, and if he didn't want to be found, there was no chance of finding him.

But there he was, right in front of him, leaning on the back of a booth couch in a small 24-hour diner at four in the morning, using his arms as a pillow and smirking like a Cheshire cat. Castiel just stared at him, still taking in the info.

They didn't say a word until the tired waitress brought them the two hot chocolates Gabriel had ordered, along with a plate of small, warm croissants.

Gabriel took a big bite and broke the silence. "So, how come you're here in the pit, bro?" he asked casually, as if they hadn't talked in just a few weeks and Gabriel had only missed a couple of things. Castiel couldn't put his thoughts straight, and didn't really hear what his brother asked him.

"I disappeared in the middle of the night out of a stranger apartment", he realised, speaking the first thing that popped in his mind, unable to deal with Gabriel's reappearance.

Gabriel snorted. "Seriously? You haven't seen me for _centuries_ and_ that's_ what you've got to say to me?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You _summoned_ me. Out of a _couch_. I would have come along if you'd knocked at the window".

Gabriel smirked. "Now, where's the fun in that?"

"I'm living with two humans, Gabriel, and they have no idea I'm an angel", Castiel reminded his brother. "Don't you think they're going to notice something strange if they wake up and I'm gone?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ", he murmured. "They won't notice a thing, okay?" he spoke clearly and loudly. "I left an illusion of you sleeping at the couch. Are you satisfied? Jeez".

Castiel took a deep breath. "Yes, I supposed I'm satisfied".

"Good".

"Even though I dislike the idea of you manipulating their minds like that".

"Cassie, for crying out loud—"

"Alright. I won't complain anymore".

"Nice", said Gabriel with a final tone. "Now, can we get back to our own stuff?"

"I suppose".

"Okay. So why are you here?"

Castiel's mind came up with several comebacks, most having to do with having lost his favourite brother for centuries. He was planning to ask a simple "why are _you_ here?" but in the end he decided to just answer the question.

"I was sent here", he said simply. "After failing my mission".

"Huh", said Gabriel, like it was nothing important. "Did the Spartan guy die on you?"

Castiel tilted his head. "That was over two thousand years ago, Gabriel", he reminded his brother.

"Right, right", said Gabriel absentmindedly. "Was it one of the Louis's? I'd warned you to watch out with that French royalty people, they're so unpredictable".

"Also a few centuries away, Gabriel", Castiel stated. "I haven't looked after Louis since… well, since he died. On his time, I might add. It's the 21st century, in case you hadn't noticed. And how did you even know Louis was my charge? You were already gone for more than a millennium".

Gabriel smirked. "I happened to be in France at the time, and I know the smell of Cassie-boy from a thousand miles away. Don't think that just because you didn't look for me, I didn't look for you either".

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You know very well that I looked for you".

"Did you now?"

"I was looking at you for thirty-four years straight", Castiel hissed, trying to keep his voice down. "I almost lost a charge while looking for you. And then I kept going for three hundred years on and off, until in the end, I gave up. You were gone, Gabriel, and you had hidden well. I was desperate. I didn't know what else to do".

"Applaud me, for starters", suggested Gabriel, his good mood suddenly back. "Since I managed to escape_ your_ attention, I doubt anyone will ever find me. So congrats to me".

Castiel couldn't help his little smile. "Congratulations to you", he went with the flow. He definitely was surprised and probably still angry, but in the end, he was happy that he had gotten his big brother back. Gabriel gave him a big smile.

"So who was it?" he asked. "Who was the one for whom you came down here?"

Castiel sighed. "Jessica Moore", he answered hesitantly. "She died before her time a few days ago, and I was sent to Earth as a punishment".

"Good", said Gabriel, catching Castiel off guard.

"What?" he exclaimed. "How on Earth is this good?"

"Well, not good for her", Gabriel tried to explain. "But it definitely seems to be good for you".

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "I swear, Gabriel, if you don't start giving it to me straight—"

Gabriel laughed. "Okay, okay. Look, Cassie, I saw your Grace when I summoned you. Hell, I felt it for the first time a couple of days ago, and I was in freakin' Leavenworth, okay? I swear, I've never felt you radiating so much energy, and I've known you since you were a fledgling; plus, the fact that you're practically fallen and you're glowing this much means that there's something here that's keeping you in a much better shape than you ever were back in Heaven". He leaned back again and took a sip from his chocolate. "In conclusion, it's a good thing that they sent your ass down here. You look good".

Castiel just stared at him with his mouth gaping. "Gabriel…"

"Prove me wrong, Cassie-boy", Gabriel challenged. "There's something awesome for you around here, isn't there?"

"Even if there is, it doesn't matter", Castiel cut him. "I can't get too attached".

"Oh, so I'm right", Gabriel grinned and he leaned forward on the table. "Do tell".

"It doesn't. Matter", repeated Castiel, with more emphasis. "Yes, you are right, and I'm having a…" he hesitated. "I'm having a much better time than I ever thought I would. I didn't even think it was possible for angels to actually have a good time, I thought that was a human privilege. There are some very nice people here who are helping me and whom I am very fond of, but it's not like I can get too attached to them. I'll have to leave them soon anyway. Or so I hope".

"Wait", Gabriel said, sounding surprised. He wasn't smiling anymore. "What do you mean? You can't possibly want to—"

"Yes, Gabriel. I intend to go back to Heaven. Obviously".

"You want to try to _redeem yourself?_" asked Gabriel, as if he didn't believe his ears. "As in you actually_ want_ to go back? Even after what they did to you?"

Castiel sighed. "Surprisingly enough, you're the second person I'm having this conversation with in the past few days, and you're both of the same attitude", he observed. "It was _my fault_, Gabriel. They did nothing to me. I caused it".

Gabriel groaned. "You caused nothing, Cassie-boy", he said, sounding tired. "And even if you _had_ caused it, you shouldn't have been sacked here. Not that here is bad. It's just that you shouldn't have been sent away like a pet alligator flushed down the toilet".

Castiel tilted his head. Gabriel started at his little brother for a moment.

"Whatever", he sighed. "You get my point, don't you?"

"Yes, indeed I do", said Castiel, "but I disagree. I deserved this".

"No; you've just been brainwashed to believe that you deserved this", Gabriel corrected him. "Or, to be more clear; you do deserve this, but it's not a punishment. You have the right to have a good time for once in your life. Why do you think I left in the first place, huh? I couldn't stand these things happening all the time. It was the same old thing, over and over and over again, and I couldn't take it anymore. Angels running around, doing Father's will, each trying to prove how awesome they were, Michael and Lucifer making a mess out of everything, arguing over who loved Father more, little angels trying_ to be the very best like no-one ever was_ and the older ones being more than happy to throw all those efforts away for _one_ freaking mistake. This has always happened, Cassie. And I hated every minute of it. It's way better down here, trust me".

Castiel remained silent. He didn't expect this in any way. He knew Gabriel didn't have the best relationship with the rest of their family, but he had never learnt what he truly thought of them.

"Gabriel, I didn't know", he muttered.

"What didn't you know?" Gabriel asked, a little defensively. "You saw everything; you just didn't want to actually _see_ it. You _still_ don't want to see it. Don't you dare go back".

"Is that a threat?" asked Castiel, a little angrily. He really, really didn't want to admit that Gabriel had pulled a sensitive string. His brother just snorted.

"_God_, you're ridiculous", he commented. "I'm saying all this _for you_. You know damn well you'll be happier here; you already are. _I spotted you from miles away, _Cas. I _know_ you. Don't you think that I already knew the condition you'd be in? This is why I came to find you. I mean yeah, of course I've missed you too, but I just… I don't want to see you going down that crappy angel road again".

Castiel sighed. "You make it sound as if I was doing drugs, Gabriel", he said. "It's _who we are_. And you did well to go away if that's what you wanted to, no matter how bizarre it was, but _this_ is not the place for us. It messes with our heads. Have you ever seen the angels that have come back to Heaven after spending time on Earth?"

"_Exactly_", stressed Gabriel, leaning forward. "The problem is with those who go _back_. After you've spent some time here, you'll never want to go back, if you're open-minded about it".

"But the whole point is—"

"The whole point is whatever the hell you want it to be", Gabriel insisted. "Aren't you happier than ever here? Why would you want to throw this away?"

"Why do you insist so much?" asked Castiel, his cheeks lightened with pink now. "I haven't seen you in centuries and all you have to tell me is to stay fallen? Are you so lonely that you want me to stay here? Is that it?"

"I'd appreciate some company, but no, this isn't my dark purpose", answered Gabriel with a sarcastic smirk. "I came only because I know you better than you know yourself, apparently, and I want you to be okay. You're my little bro, aren't you? I couldn't contact you before, when you were still protecting your charges, and now… well, I'm just getting straight to the point. Besides, we don't have many things to talk about; I don't care to hear about the humans you've been protecting and you will freak out and never look at me again the same way if I tell you what I've been up to all these years".

"You know that this is a reason to never look at you the same way already, don't you?"

"What I mean is", Gabriel continued, completely ignoring Castiel, "this is what you need to hear the most right now. You don't need to go back, that's all I'm saying. I mean, look at me. I'm alright, am I not? And I have been for hundreds and hundreds of years. Just enjoy what you've been given".

Castiel didn't speak. He wasn't expecting this kind of reaction from his older brother. He knew Gabriel was away by choice, but he had hoped that maybe he would have advice to give him on how to go back, not on how to stay on Earth.

Then of course, he wanted to go back because… well, because that's what he supposed that he should do the moment he stepped his foot on Earth. He recalled realising things would never be the same for him from now on, and he knew that he was right. It was true; angels weren't the same after returning to Heaven, but Castiel had never actually thought about the ones who stayed on Earth. What happened to them after they fell? Could it be possible that they stayed on Earth without _actually_ falling? He knew that there were many of them, but he couldn't recall their names, and he could never find them and ask them; he simply couldn't know what happened when one fell. It was obvious that all of Gabriel's powers were intact, but then again, Gabriel _was_ an archangel; an archangel who had found happiness on Earth and looked much better than any other angel with direct experiences of Earth that Castiel had ever met.

He took a deep breath. He didn't want to change his mind. He was supposed to redeem himself and go back, not suddenly become a complete outcast.

But he couldn't deny the truth in his older brother's words.

"What do you think I should do?" he mumbled, unable to actually speak the words.

Gabriel smirked. "What does it matter?" he asked. "What matters is what _you_ think you should do. Stop waiting for somebody to give you orders, bro".

"I was asking for an opinion, not an order", Castiel protested a little more passionately than necessary; Gabriel was reading him like an open book with an 18 size font, and that was a very, very unpleasant feeling. His brother didn't lose his smile.

"Look, I already told you what I think", he said. "All I'm saying is that, in my opinion, you shouldn't try to go back. You've obviously found something interesting to do here, and you should take advantage of that. Go get a job, volunteer in a pet shelter, go bungee-jumping, have lots of sex; you know, human stuff". Castiel wasn't sure whether Gabriel didn't notice his blushing or he just chose to ignore it. "Only be careful the first few times", Gabriel continued, "until you get complete control of your wings; if the sex is really intense, they can pop out. It's happened to me and it wasn't pretty. Well, it was, but not for the guy that was screwing me. He wasn't really open-minded about shorter guys with two extra limbs twice his height each".

Castiel kept staring into Gabriel's eyes. "I'm not sure I wanted to know every piece of information you just gave me", he stated and Gabriel laughed.

"Yeah, TMI, sorry. But you get my point. Go live a little, it's fun".

Castiel sighed. "Look, you're right. I know you're right. But it's not easy changing your entire way of thinking after a few millennia of existing. It just doesn't work that way".

"It does if you want to", said Gabriel and winked. "Look, I'm not talking theories here; you've tested it. You know this is a cool place. All you need is to be open-minded about it; the rest comes naturally".

Castiel frowned. "I don't know", he said hesitantly. "I guess I'll try going to a hospital in the morning".

"Why?" asked Gabriel, looking really confused. "Come on, they're not the best croissants I've had, but they're not _that_ bad".

Castiel tilted his head. "I meant to _look for a job"._

Gabriel frowned. "Why do you want to go to a hospital to look for a job? What happened to bartending and working in a bookstore? I was sure you'd love working in a bookstore".

"Well, my ID says I'm a nurse, so…" shrugged Castiel, and Gabriel widened his eyes.

"Wait", he said. "You're using your ID? As in the fake ID the others gave you when they threw you down? And you're actually planning to use the random profession they copy-pasted on it?"

Castiel frowned. "Well, yes. What else am I supposed to do?"

Gabriel groaned, rolling his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Cas", he drawled. "You should have called me! Prayed to me or whatever. You could have even tried to change it using your own mojo, did you ever think of _that?"_

Castiel felt some heat on his cheeks. "No".

"And you're a what again?" Gabriel asked. "A nurse? Why on earth would they make you a nurse?"

Castiel shrugged. "I don't know. It could be because I'm a healer? Maybe?"

Gabriel snorted. "It was probably chosen at random for you", he implied and opened his right palm on the table encouragingly. "Come on, give me your ID. I'll fix it for you".

Castiel's expression didn't change. "It's a professional ID, Gabriel. From a hospital I supposedly work in. Or used to work in, I haven't checked. I could just not use it, if I don't want it".

"And why haven't you checked?" asked Gabriel, catching Castiel off guard.

"I don't know", said Castiel quickly, but remembered Gabriel wasn't an easy person to escape from. "I guess I didn't want to check it".

"Just in case you needed to go to work?"

Castiel sighed. "Yes".

Gabriel laughed. "See? We're on the same trail. You hate the thought of being a nurse. It's not you. Just throw the ID away and we'll make you a new one. We can put something fancy on it, like 'Adult Fashion Accessories', brought to you by Castiel—" he stopped and looked thoughtful. "What surname did they give you, really?"

Castiel was sure nobody had managed to stay blushed for this long in the entire human history. "Novak", he muttered hesitantly. "But not Castiel".

Gabriel's eyebrows went all the way up. "What?"

"The name on my ID", Castiel started explaining, "it's not Castiel. It's James Novak".

Gabriel just stared at Castiel for a few moments, making him feel extremely uncomfortable. "You're kidding, right?"

Castiel shook his head. "No".

"So these guys", Gabriel went on, looking as if he would explode, "the ones you're staying with—"

"Dean and Sam", Castiel helped.

"Yeah, those two… They call you _James?"_

Castiel wished he had a trapdoor under his feet. "Actually, they call me Jimmy", he mumbled. Gabriel almost fell off his couch.

"You're fucking kidding me!" he exclaimed.

"Gabriel—"

"Come on, Cassie!" Gabriel shouted.

"Hey!" there was a female voice and both brothers turned around to see the waitress with her fists on her hips. "Keep it down, you weirdoes, it's 4.30 in the morning!"

"Yeah, yeah", hissed Gabriel and then he turned back to Castiel, speaking between his teeth. "Not only they send you here, but on top of that, you believe they're right to do so, and you let them take away _everything_ away from you? Even your own _name?_ What the hell's wrong with you? Show a little backbone, for crying out loud!"

Castiel felt his anger rising, even though he was still blushing. "Well, excuse me for not having your rich experiences from this world!" he snapped. "I was lost and alone, and I find nothing wrong with following our family's rules! This is the only thing I was given, and I followed it! If I knew I'd have found something good here, if I knew I'd meet a family member again, then maybe I wouldn't have clinged to my orders so hard. But I didn't know, and I won't apologise for my actions!"

"Nice", Gabriel said excitedly, and Castiel blinked. "I see you're getting back a little of your backbone. Now promise me you'll tell your friends your real name. Jimmy doesn't suit you".

Castiel exhaled loudly. "I don't know about that", he muttered.

"Why not?" Gabriel asked, and Castiel opened his mouth, but the answer didn't come at once.

Castiel remembered Dean's panicked face as he was leaving his dream. He couldn't believe he'd shared such a big part of himself with a human who wasn't even his charge. He was sure he was violating a dozen rules by doing this, but for some reason he wasn't particularly worried. He was fallen already, wasn't he? And it felt good being himself again, even like that.

He wouldn't do that anymore, he promised himself. He had Gabriel again now; he wouldn't have to take small angel doses from Dean's dream. That's all it was, that was the only reason he liked going into Dean's dreams. Feeling like a proper angel again. Nothing more. It's not like he enjoyed Dean's company too much or anything.

The point was, there was a chance of Dean having actually heard his name when he shouted it at him while being summoned. He couldn't possibly go and tell him that he'd lied to him about his name, and as so it happens, he had the same name with the angel that had been appearing in his dreams ever since he came by.

No, it was better if he remained Jimmy.

"Cassie?"

Gabriel's voice brought Castiel back from his thoughts.

"Sorry", he said. "Look, I don't want to make them mistrust me. If I tell him I've been using a fake name, I will look like a terrible person".

"Not if you've been hiding from a horrible family, no", suggested Gabriel. "Don't you wanna keep your name?"

"I do, I really do", admitted Castiel. "But…" he thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Can we make a middle name for me?"

Gabriel nodded approvingly. "Nice one", he said. "So you can both keep your name and play by the rules. Very diplomatic", and he winked.

"So we can put something like 'James Castiel Novak'?" Castiel suggested expectedly, handing Gabriel his ID.

Gabriel looked at it. "Why not the opposite?" he suggested. "Why not 'Castiel James Novak'? You can say you gave them your middle name so that you couldn't be spotted at once, or something".

"That doesn't make a lot of sense, but I'm okay with it", Castiel agreed, his face serious as ever; he was feeling his heart racing in his chest, though, and he couldn't really tell if it was excitement or fear of Dean finding out the truth.

Gabriel handed him back the small card. "Good as new", he grinned.

Castiel looked at it. There it was. Castiel James Novak, born November 27, 1986 in Pontiac, Illinois. Castiel didn't know how on Earth Gabriel knew he'd said he was twenty-six, but it worked.

He double-checked the info.

"Gabriel?"

"Yes?"

"Is there a particular reason you put my birthday on November 27, 1986?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Not at all".

Castiel managed to keep his smile hidden. "Because my supposed birthday is in a week from now, so I just thought…"

"Meh".

"Isn't there even a reason for making my birthday match that year's Thanksgiving?"

Gabriel gave him an impressed look. "Wow. I thought you'd miss that".

"You underestimated me", said Castiel, half-smiling.

"Well, let's just say I wanted you to be thankful for your awesome big bro every time you looked at your ID", Gabriel winked, and Castiel laughed.

Laughing. Well, that was new.

He looked at his ID again. Castiel James Novak. Yes, he could live with that.

The rest of the night passed quite easily. Castiel still didn't have much need for sleep, and he and Gabriel had a lot of catching up to do. They took another cup of hot chocolate each, along with a dozen chocolate chip cookies for Gabriel, and took a walk through the town. Not that two millennia of separate angelic experiences could be squeezed in the few hours before dawn, but it was a start.

Gabriel walked Castiel back to Dean and Sam's apartment, and popped him inside the house as quietly as possible. Castiel had to ignore his brother's wink when he saw Dean sleeping at the corner. They agreed to meet again the next morning; Castiel promised to introduce Gabriel to Sam and Dean and then watched his big brother go with a rustle of feathers and a smirk that remained in the room like a persistent scent.

He lied down in his couch and smiled in his pillow. Okay, his life wasn't going exactly the way he'd planned it, but it wasn't that bad.

He could slowly feel a little part of himself coming back.


	10. News and Everything New

Dean tried very, very hard to fall asleep that night, and it wasn't until near dawn when he made it. He really wanted to confront the angel once more.

But, when finally Dean managed to fall asleep, the angel didn't come.

Dean woke up at 8.20 Saturday morning, his temples and eye sockets throbbing. He knew it was because of his terrible sleep patterns, and he wished he'd been a little calmer last night, but to be honest, he was still shaky.

He tried to remember exactly what had happened. He remembered his dream, and he recalled the angel being dragged away from him by force. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night and finding a black feather the size of his forearm on the floor.

He wasn't really sure if that part was just his imagination or actually real.

Of course, he thought, why would he freak out this much if it wasn't real? He'd never been really scared or disturbed by his nightmares. On the other hand, how on Earth could the whole thing be real?

Dean groaned and went to get an aspirin. His head was killing him; he wasn't sure he could deal with the whole thing. He honestly wished he wasn't going completely crazy. He should have woken someone last night, he told himself. Just to have a witness on whether the feather was real or not.

He quietly made coffee, careful not to wake Sam; the weekend was finally there, and Dean's little brother could use some resting time. Dean ran his day's schedule in his mind; have a coffee, wait for Jimmy to wake up, go help him fix the apartment for a while, then go to the garage, then to the diner. He sighed. What the hell was he doing with his life?

He took a sip from his coffee and heard a stirring from the couch. He could see Jimmy's arms as he stretched, having just woken up.

"Morning", Dean said.

"Good morning, Dean", Jimmy answered. Dean almost laughed; Jimmy's already gruff voice sounded even deeper when he'd just woken up. He suddenly felt a little hint of sadness at the thought of not hearing that particular voice again, now that Jimmy would wake up on his own in his apartment. He shook it off.

"There's coffee, if you want", he announced. Jimmy nodded.

"I'd like that, thank you".

They had their coffee in silence. Dean was still really confused about last night, and he knew that no matter how cool Jimmy seemed to be, he couldn't just start a random conversation about his dreams with him. It just didn't seem right after three days of knowing him. Of course, they'd crossed many other lines during these three days, he reminded himself, but still. He wouldn't have Jimmy think he was a nutjob. Besides, Jimmy didn't look like he was in the mood to talk. Not that he looked sad or angry, he just looked a little… anxious. Like he wanted to say something and he couldn't, Dean thought. Well, Dean could relate.

In the end, he decided to go for it. _Smoothly_, he reminded himself. _Be cool._

"Jimmy?"

Jimmy looked up from his mug. "Yes, Dean?"

Damn, Dean liked it when Jimmy used his name in a conversation. He wasn't sure why.

_Focus._

"Can I ask you something?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Is there a chance that… someone came here last night?"

If Jimmy was uncomfortable, his constant poker face didn't fail him. "I do not understand", he said. "Do you think somebody broke in?"

"No, not broke in, exactly", said Dean. Damn, how do you explain that? "I'm just wondering… did you hear anything strange? Like, I don't know, is there a chance that a giant bird or something came in here?"

Jimmy tilted his head and just stared at Dean.

Dean waited for a couple of moments. "Oh, for God's sake", he burst out.

"I apologise, Dean, but I am not following your trail of thought", Jimmy said. "Are you worried about a burglar or a stray animal? And why would you worry about something like that? Did you hear something?"

"Well, I…" Dean wasn't sure how to go on. "I found something on the floor, okay?" he explained. "It was a… a huge feather. It wasn't here last night, and I woke up at about 3 am and there it was. The windows were closed and there was no reason for it to be there".

Was it just Dean or Jimmy looked a little uncomfortable?

"I think you're overreacting, Dean", he said in the end, taking a sip and averting his eyes. "Why on Earth would someone break in and leave a feather behind? It probably just came in with the wind at some point".

"But it didn't!" Dean insisted.

"Well, it obviously did. Are you sure you weren't just dreaming about feathers?"

Dean hesitated. "Well, I was, but—" he stopped. "Look, forget it, okay? I was just worried for a sec. No reason. It doesn't matter".

"If you say so".

Dean was definitely starting to get pissed. At himself, mostly. He just couldn't leave it alone. He had no chance of saying this story to anyone and not have them think he was crazy, but for some reason he'd expected Jimmy to be the exception.

They remained silent for a few minutes. Then Dean let his mug in the sink and turned to face Jimmy, determined to pretend their previous talk hadn't happened.

"So", he started, "when do you want to go next door and finish the apartment?"

"Oh". Jimmy looked embarrassed. "Look, Dean, I'm sorry… I thought I'd better go look for a job this morning. I'm going to need some things for…" he hesitated, "my apartment… that you cannot provide. I can't keep borrowing from you; I need to stand on my own two feet if I want to survive in this place".

If Dean thought Jimmy was being over-dramatic, he didn't show it. "Okay, man, I understand", he said. "But if you want to fix anything later today you'll have to do it on your own; I need to go work at the diner. I can't lose another day, Ellen will flay me".

Jimmy stared at him for a moment. "Please tell me that what you said was an exaggeration of the macabre kind, otherwise I believe I will have to accompany you and take the situation in my own hands, and I guarantee that it's not going to be pleasant for anyone".

Dean blinked. "Dude, of course it—" he shook his head. "Look, what I'm saying is that I need to get back to work today, alright?"

Jimmy nodded. "Alright".

"Alright", Dean nodded. "Now stop taking everything so literally".

Jimmy frowned. "I apologise. I'm not very familiar with non-literal phraseology".

Dean laughed. "Man, you're a total weirdo", he concluded. "I don't mean it in a bad way", he added quickly. "You're just… I don't know. Alien. Completely one of a kind".

Jimmy shrugged. "Everyone is", he said simply and took the last sip of his coffee.

: : :

Castiel decided to walk to the park he and Gabriel met last night. He needed some time to think.

He knew for a fact that Dean was okay with him coming to his dreams, at least while the dream lasted, but it seemed that when he woke up, he didn't appreciate it this much. Castiel really wanted to slap himself. How could he not notice that he'd left a feather behind? Of course, he thought, he couldn't control being summoned by Gabriel. And since his wings were actually material now, it was normal for them to shed a couple of feathers every now and then. But Dean wasn't unobservant, and it seemed that he'd woken up exactly at the wrong moment, before Castiel came back and found the evidence of his presence; well, his angelic presence, anyway.

Castiel hated to admit it, but he had to stop visiting Dean's dreams. It was something that had happened unintentionally, anyway; it had started as an innocent effort to heal him, and look where it had taken him. No, he needed to stop.

He found Gabriel at the park, dressed warmly with a woollen, rainbow-coloured sweater with a ridiculously long, pointed hood. Castiel didn't know if he should laugh or not; neither him nor Gabriel actually needed to dress warmly; they were still angels, after all, and even if they got a little cold, they'd get over it. Castiel knew his brother only liked to have fun at every situation.

"Morning, bro!" Gabriel greeted enthusiastically. "What are your plans for today?"

"Good morning to you too", said Castiel. "I thought you were the one who wanted to meet with me, especially this early".

Gabriel grinned. "Cool. So we're following my schedule, right?"

Castiel shrugged. "I'd believe this to be the case".

"Awesome". Gabriel started walking, gesturing to Castiel to follow him. "I've got some good ideas, to be honest".

"Are they my kind of good ideas or yours?" asked Castiel, only half-joking. He had no idea if he should be worried. Gabriel laughed, though.

"Calm down, no strip clubs, I promise", he said. "Unless of course you're into the idea, which I highly doubt. Anyway, I thought we should spend the day helping you fit into the human world. What do you think?"

Castiel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that okay, you found a couple of friends and an apartment to stay, which is pretty awesome, but you can't keep borrowing their clothes. I'm gonna take you to buy all the stuff you need. And then we go to a strip club".

"No", Castiel cut him. "No strip clubs".

"Ah, you don't know how to have fun".

"And I don't think we need to buy anything", Castiel went on. "I mean, can't you conjure stuff out of nowhere? Why should we pay for it? I still don't have a job, you know".

Gabriel laughed. "Oh, you really don't know how to be human", he chuckled. "You need to go shopping at least once in your life, and this is a good chance. I can conjure _money_ out of nowhere, so you can use that to pick whatever you want for your new place. Consider it a gift; an apology, if you want, for making you worried about me for a couple thousand years, okay?"

Castiel sighed. "Thank you, but it still leaves a funny taste in my mouth. Even if you can just make money appear, I'd prefer to work for it first".

"Oh, come on", groaned Gabriel. "Just this once".

"I don't know, Gabriel", Castiel said hesitantly.

"Look, it's not like we're stealing from anyone", Gabriel insisted. "It's not like the money was somebody's to steal; I'll just make it appear. If everyone could make it appear out of nowhere, they'd do the same thing".

"But they can't; that's the point", Castiel reminded his brother.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Okay, look what we'll do", he started. "Your problem is that you don't want to spend money you haven't earned because other people can't find it so easily, right?" When Castiel nodded, Gabriel went on: "Okay. So we'll go and buy everything you need, and then we'll pass by a local shelter, and we'll give away an amount of money twice as big as the one you've already spent", he suggested. "Is that okay?"

Castiel's eyebrows met as he narrowed his eyes; he was sure he couldn't hide his smile very well, though. "Are you sure you wanna do that?" he asked.

"Please", Gabriel dismissed his brother. "As if it costs me anything. I'm just not overdoing it because you've got to think of the world economy yadda yadda; you've got to be careful when you create money. But I can knock myself out a few times", he said, winking. Castiel smiled.

"All right", he gave in. "Let's go".

: : :

Castiel was amazed at how quickly the morning passed. He ended up having some fun, but he was sure it was only because he had Gabriel with him to guide him through the confusing maze that was the mall. Castiel wasn't familiar with anything that had to do with actually purchasing anything, from clothes to groceries and missing pieces of furniture, and he received several eye-rolls from Gabriel during the day.

At first, Castiel had the impression that they wouldn't stay in the mall for long, but it seemed Gabriel had different plans. Castiel hadn't imagined he would need anything more than a few clothes and food to last a few days, but it seemed that being human meant something more than just that. Gabriel took him to buy underwear and clothes first; they had a very awkward moment when the cashier thought they were a couple. Gabriel decided to play along, the alternative being the obligation to explain why a grown man had to guide step by step his also fully grown little brother through his journey in the bizarre world that was choosing clothes. A couple would do this much easier; it ended up feeling really weird for both of them, though, and they made a silent agreement to never speak of it again. Castiel was sure Gabriel would definitely break the agreement at some point, but what could you do.

Castiel at first couldn't understand why his brother approved of some clothes and rejected others. The whole procedure was alien and confusing for Castiel. Gabriel came up with many reasons why his brother should or shouldn't buy something ("Not these boxers, you'll look like a grandpa, and definitely not tighty-whities, what are you, eight? Go get these boxer briefs, they'll be fine", or "Look, don't judge by the rainbow sweater, okay? You're classier than me, act like it. You're not getting a Christmas sweater", or "Enough with the hoodies, let us get you something on the suit-and-tie category too, okay?"). Castiel wasn't sure he understood all of his brother's reasons, but he went along. Besides, there seemed to be some dozens of things he'd never have thought of buying, like a pair of pyjamas, or clothes for different occasions. He decided he really liked the comfort of sweaters, but he was surprised to see himself looking good in a suit and tie – even though he couldn't fix his tie to save his life. He decided he'd keep that attire for special occasions. What he did really enjoy, for some reason, was a tan trench coat he found in a corner of the store. Gabriel protested a lot, saying that the point was for Castiel to fit in, not look like a film noir reject, but Castiel decided he didn't need to always listen to his brother and got the trench coat. Gabriel might have been disappointed at his brother's choice, but he looked really happy to see him making his own decisions, no matter how small and insignificant. It was a good start, he had commented, even if it included something that most fashion designers would sell their souls to see gone from the face of the Earth.

During their trip to the mall, Castiel also decided he really wanted to have books in his apartment; from the little taste he'd had of them in Dean and Sam's apartment, he had concluded he really liked them. So, Gabriel insisted that, along with the useful stuff for the apartment, they got a small bookcase and a dozen books for Castiel to start his collection. He seemed really pleased at the brightened face of his brother. They also got a few things the apartment needed, like a carpet that would keep it warm without having a decade's layer of dust on it, some pillows and sheets that Castiel actually liked, kitchenware and so on and so forth; Gabriel was determined to make his brother feel at home, even if he didn't own the furniture or the place. Castiel had to try very hard to convince him not to replace all of Bobby's furniture, because he was also the house-keeper, besides from the tenant; let alone the fact that Gabriel suggested several times for them to find a new apartment Castiel would choose on his own. Castiel really wanted to have the most part of a human experience, though, and he wouldn't have his brother give it all to him from the first moment.

After all that, and right at the point where Castiel was sure he couldn't take another minute in the mall, Gabriel dragged him to the second to last place for the day, as he promised. It was an electronics store, because as he said, everyone had cell phones now, and Castiel should better get used to it. Throughout the entire presentation of every cell phone in the store, Castiel had a very strong urge to run away or at least bang his head on the closest wall. He didn't understand a thing, and in the end Gabriel must have noticed his almost pleading eyes, chose a simple cell for him, arranged the connection to the company and promised to teach him how to use it.

Their last stop in their shopping journey was the grocery store, where Castiel found himself really interested in all the choices he had. He had thought food to be just another inevitable part of living a human life, but it seemed to be something really interesting. He picked a variety of groceries and Gabriel, amused, added a cooking book to the bill. He announced that he wanted to taste his brother's creations one day, as long as there was a doctor around to save him from the food poisoning. When Castiel reminded him that he couldn't get sick, he shrugged and said that he would find something better to do with the doctor, if that was the case. Castiel really preferred not to think about the details.

Gabriel kept his promise, and even though they'd spent an amount of money that even Castiel, completely unfamiliar with currency as he was, could recognise as huge, they stopped by a local shelter before going back to Castiel's building, and talked to the nun who ran it. She almost fainted when Gabriel gave her a check with, as he'd promised, double the price he'd paid for Castiel's stuff. She'd given them both a hug, blessing them and repeating they were godsend. It took a moment for Castiel to realise she hadn't recognised them for who they were and she was just using an expression, but in the end, he was really happy to do that. He'd never forget the joy in the nun's face. When he told Gabriel in their way home, his brother just smiled enigmatically.

They finally came home late in the afternoon. Castiel knocked at Dean and Sam's door when he and Gabriel managed to take all the bags upstairs, just to check if they were there, but there was no answer. He assumed Dean was at the garage, making up for the lost time, and that Sam had gone out. Sam probably had college friends, Castiel realised; he couldn't spend all his time with his brother. Well, he'd catch them later. He really wanted them to meet Gabriel.

Castiel couldn't tell why, but he liked the feeling of searching his pockets for his keys and opening the door to his own place, welcoming his brother. And he definitely was pleased that, no matter how cold the place was, the paint had dried and the smell had faded almost completely.

They let the numerous bags down and Gabriel looked around, whistling.

"Wow, this is actually pretty cool", he commented. "Love the colours. And the smelly old furniture".

Castiel wasn't sure if his brother meant what he was saying or he was being sarcastic, but he decided he didn't care. "Yes, we put it all up yesterday", he informed Gabriel. "I think I'm really starting to like it. I never expected to have a place to live on my own".

"Feels good, huh?" grinned Gabriel.

Castiel shrugged. "I don't know yet. I'll find out soon, I guess. To be honest, I'm a little worried I'll get lonely. I'm used to being around one specific person for thousands of years".

"Yeah, I get you", said Gabriel. "In the worst case, get a dog".

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass. For now I'm just panicking at the thought of putting all this stuff here. It feels like there's no room at all".

Gabriel laughed. "Trust me, if you let me take care of it, in a couple of hours we'll be done, the pizza will be in the oven and we'll be watching TV". He looked around. "Or playing cards. Since you don't seem to own a TV. Damn. I should have gotten you one".

Castiel half-smiled. "Thank you, but no. I have no use for it and I really don't want to own anything that I don't need".

Gabriel shrugged and took the bags of groceries to the kitchen. "As you wish, bro. By the way, can you take care of your clothes so we don't have the bags in the middle of the house, while I arrange this stuff over here?"

Castiel obeyed, trying to ignore the growing feeling of happiness inside his chest. He was definitely starting anew, and he was planning to make the most of it.

: : :

"I'll be damned, boy! How long has it been since I last saw you?"

Sam always felt embarrassed when he realised he had neglected Bobby. "A while", he murmured.

"Is it me or you've grown even taller? Ye need to stop at some point, ye know".

Sam chuckled. Bobby always managed to lift him up. "I'll keep that in mind", he promised. "Hey, Bobby… Can you tell me where—"

"Your brother's in the back".

"Thanks".

Sam found his way to the kitchen, wanting to see Dean really bad. He hoped they'd find some time to talk; the diner was half-empty when he came in, anyway, and today most waiters were on duty. He really couldn't wait until he and Dean were both home.

"Hey, Sam", he heard Jo's friendly voice, and turned to see her kind smile. "What's up?"

"Hey", he greeted. "I'm… Well, I'm… cool. I guess. Where's Dean?"

"Over here", sounded the voice of his brother. Sam saw him coming, wiping his hands at his apron; he was probably working in the kitchen today. Jo smiled and took her leave.

"How come you're here?" asked Dean.

"Um…"

Damn. That was hard. He shouldn't have come here. It wasn't like Dean could do anything.

Dean, seeing his hesitance, smiled. "No freaking way", he said. "It's got to do with that girl you like, huh?"

Well, Sam couldn't lie. "Yes. But—"

"What was her name again?"

"Jessica. Look—"

"Awesome", Dean exclaimed. "When am I meeting her?"

Sam took a deep breath. "You're not", he said simply, trying to keep his voice steady.

Dean frowned. "What? Why?"

"She, uh…" Sam hesitated. How do you even say something like that? "She… had an accident".

Dean's brows furrowed together, and Sam knew that if a heart breaking made a sound, he would have heard Dean's cracking. He didn't have to say it for his brother to understand.

"Shit, Sammy", Dean murmured as he locked him in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry".

"Yeah", Sam mumbled. He didn't expect something more from Dean. There was no chance his brother would ever show any more feeling than this. And yet, Sam could feel that his brother was deeply affected.

After a moment he broke free from his brother's grip. "It has been a few days since I last saw her, but I assumed…" he sighed. "God, I don't know. I've no freaking idea what I assumed. So today I went for lunch with Andy and Adam and some random guys from our class, right? And I asked some guys where I could find Jessica because you know… we'd never actually talked, and…" his voice broke. "And they told me. She had a car accident, apparently, and she stayed in the hospital for several days before…"

Dean nodded solemnly, not needing Sam to go on. "I'm really sorry, Sammy", he said. "You've no idea how sorry I am. Can I do anything for you? Like, anything at all. Name it and it's done".

Sam shook his head. "No, it's okay", he said. "It's not like you can actually do something. To be honest I came here only because I wanted to talk to someone. It was probably foolish of me anyway; I just… needed to tell someone. Sorry to distract you from your work, it's just—"

"Shut up, Sammy, of course you're not distracting me", said Dean. "Or, you know, I don't mind being distracted. Do you want me to take the rest of the day off?"

"No, no. Of course not", Sam reassured his brother. "Look, I know it's gonna be okay, alright? It's not like we were together or anything. I mean, I'd never even talked to her. But I don't know… I was just really interested in her. I thought that maybe…" he sighed. "Nevermind. It just sucks, you know? She was like my age".

Dean nodded. "Yeah", he murmured. "Look, no need to apologise for feeling like crap, okay? You lost the girl you liked".

Sam chuckled bitterly. "I just feel terrible for making you, of all people, tell me it's gonna be okay and everything. You just lost your girl and it was worse, because you guys were actually together. I didn't even know Jessica, and—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake", Dean exclaimed, rolling his eyes angrily. "Look, I loved Nora, but she was an asshole, okay? She proved that over and over. We had our chance and she threw it away. You didn't even get your chance, and that's fucking unfair".

Sam nodded wearily. "Yeah, I know".

Dean took his cell phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. "Look, I'm done from here in a few hours, okay? We'll just sit down and you'll tell me everything, if you want to. Or we'll just get you drunk enough to feel better. What do you think?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. I think I just need to rest. My mind's all over the place, you know? I've barely even realised what's happened".

Dean nodded. "Whatever you want, Sammy".

Sam took a deep breath before arranging his coat on his shoulders. "See you at home, then?" he asked.

"Okay".

"And sorry to have bothered you at work, Dean", Sam started apologetically, but Dean shoved him out of the kitchen.

"If you ever worry about bothering me again, I'll find out a way to be legally not related to you anymore", he said. "And change your surname. Now go and do something you like".

Sam couldn't help a small smile. "Okay".

He waved at Bobby as he was leaving. Yeah, his brother was a jerk alright, but nobody could argue that he really, really cared. Maybe more than it was healthy.

: : :

Jo had to come and shake Dean to get him out of his almost trance. He apologised and got back to washing the dishes, but he couldn't put Sam out of his mind.

Damn, why did things go so horrible for everyone these past days? He'd broken up in probably one of the most hurtful ways possible, now Sam's possible interest got _killed_, for fuck's sake, even Jimmy had told him he'd lost his friend in a car accident.

Dean frowned as he tried to remember Jimmy's friend's name. Wasn't it Jessica as well?

Damn. A bad week for Jessicas. Both young, both died in a car accident, both—

The wrinkle between Dean's eyebrows deepened even more as he tried very, very hard to remember. Hadn't Jimmy said his Jessica was supposed to become a lawyer? That probably meant that it either was her dream, or she was already in law school.

Could it be that she was the same Jessica as Jimmy's?

He made a mental note to ask about that. He had no idea what he could possibly say to avoid sounding rude and insensitive, but at least hey, maybe Sam and Jimmy could comfort each other, if they were sad over the same girl. Or, if she wasn't, at least they could share their stories, maybe find some bitter amusement in the fact that they'd both loved – or, well, liked – a Lawyer Jessica who liked to race her car.

He mentally slapped himself a couple of times to remember to behave even in his thoughts, and went back to washing the dishes.


	11. Housewarming

"Dean?"

Dean could swear that he'd fall asleep on the spot as he was opening his front door, but his brain went immediately to full capacity at the sound of the hoarse voice in the hallway. He turned around to see Jimmy at the doorstep of his apartment, beaming with happiness.

"Hey, buddy", Dean greeted. "I see you're in a good mood".

"Oh, yes", Jimmy agreed enthusiastically. "I knocked before, but apparently you were out".

"Yeah, I was at work", Dean confirmed. "What's up?"

"Nothing", Jimmy shrugged; Dean thought that Jimmy was absolutely terrible at hiding his true emotions. "I just thought you might like to see what we've done to the place".

"'We'?" asked Dean curiously, approaching his friend. "Who's 'we'?"

"I found my brother", said Jimmy, smiling, and Dean blinked in surprise.

"Wow, Jimmy, that's great!" he exclaimed.

"Well, I guess he found me more than I found him", said Jimmy, "but it counts. And I'd like you two to meet him, if that's alright with you. He'll be out of the shower in a while; we found out that Bobby must have connected the heat and hot water, and Gabriel's been taking advantage of it for a while now".

Dean assumed Gabriel was Jimmy's brother's name. "Cool", he said. "Let me just get Sammy, okay? It'll do him good to have some company tonight, he's, uh… well, let's say he's not at his best".

Jimmy frowned. "Did something happen?"

Well, Dean didn't want to start that talk at that particular moment. "Well, yeah, but it's kinda Sam's business, you know? I don't know if he wants to have us talking about it".

"No need to say more", Jimmy interrupted him. "We'll be here to cheer him up, if he needs it. Trust me, that's what my brother's best at. I think he decided to reappear at the best moment".

"That's good, I guess", smiled Dean. "Oh, do you have anything to eat?" Dean really hoped he didn't sound like he was asking for food, but rather like he intended to make something for Jimmy and his brother. Jimmy smiled with a slight blush, though.

"Actually, I tried to cook", he admitted shyly. "I have no idea what it turned out to be, but you're free to come over and share it with us, if you're not too scared".

Dean laughed. "We'll be there as soon as possible", he said. "Man, you're godsend. I'm starving".

"I'm warning you, I've never cooked anything in my life before".

Dean narrowed his eyes, still smiling. "You're totally weird, but I still want to try what you made. I'm a bit of a daredevil anyway", and he winked.

Jimmy gave him a half-smile. "We'll be waiting", he said and went back inside, leaving Dean alone in the hallway. Dean shook his head, laughing, and after a moment he cleared his throat. He needed to be serious. He promised himself that he'd manage to make Sam have a good time tonight.

He opened the door to his apartment and walked in.

"Sam?" he called, looking around. He left his jacket on a chair and listened carefully to the sounds of the apartment.

There it was.

Dean followed the scratching noise and knocked on Sam's door, even though it was open. His brother was lying on his stomach in his bed, writing something. He had a pile of books next to him.

He looked up at Dean's knock.

"Hey", he said, his voice sounding croaky.

"Hey, tiger", said Dean softly, and approached his brother. He sat next to him. "How're you holdin' up?"

Sam sighed. "I'm not", he said simply. "I know it shouldn't have been so hard for me, but I can't help it. I know I didn't even know her, but—"

"No need to apologise, Sammy", Dean interrupted. "What happened was terrible. You're allowed to feel like crap".

Sam didn't answer as once. "Yeah, I guess".

Dean hesitated, but in the end he decided to go for it. "Look", he started. "I know it might be a little fucked up for me to ask something like this now, but… I don't know. I think you deserve to have a good time, otherwise I wouldn't ask it".

Sam's eyebrows burrowed together. "What is it?"

"Jimmy has cooked dinner", said Dean, with a tone that he hoped wasn't too pleading or pitiful. "He found his long lost brother today, God knows how, and they're in his place right now. He says he wants us to try what he's made, but warns us he hasn't ever cooked before. What do you think?"

Sam made a grimace. "Isn't he like twenty-six years old or so? How on Earth hasn't he cooked before?"

Dean shrugged. "Beats me. I guess he had servants growing up. But he was pretty happy about it, and I think it's a shame to disappoint him".

Sam bit his lip. "I don't know, Dean—"

"Jimmy also says his brother's pretty awesome", Dean interrupted with an encouraging tone. "He says they guy's the best to make you feel better when you're down".

Sam sighed. "Okay", he agreed half-heartedly. "Even though I'm not really in the mood".

Dean smiled. "We'll take care of that", he promised.

: : :

"Coming!"

The doorbell rang again.

"Gabriel, can you _please_ go open the door? I'm seriously losing it here".

"I'm in my _towel_!"

"_Still?"_

"Yes, and you told me I wasn't allowed to flash them!"

"Oh, for goodness' sake…"

Castiel wiped his hands in the apron Gabriel had thought necessary to buy for him and ran to the door. He opened it and came face to face with Dean and Sam.

"Whoa, man", Dean laughed. "What the hell happened to you?"

Castiel chuckled awkwardly as he looked at himself; he was all covered in flour, and that was only the part of himself that he could actually lay his eyes on. He could feel the white powder on his hair and face.

"I already told you", he said as he stepped aside to let Dean and Sam enter the house, "I've never cooked before".

Dean laughed, but Castiel watched him as he took a look at the house and noticed his jaw dropping. Sam at first looked at his brother strangely, but then looked around too, and his face ended up looking like he was mimicking his brother.

"Holy freaking shit", murmured Dean. "When the hell did you manage to do all these things, Jimmy?"

Castiel smiled modestly. "Let's just say my brother was generous to me with both his wallet and his time".

A part of him felt ashamed at the unfamiliar sense of pride he found himself having for his apartment, but the rest of him felt… well, proud. He really liked the colours of the walls; the blue and green shades were soothing and they reminded him of the summer sky. He and Gabriel had managed to push every unneeded thing in the bedroom, or shove it in the loft. The remarkable thing was that Gabriel, being in his full capacity like he'd spent no time on Earth at all, could very easily use his powers to find the perfect arrangement for all of Bobby's stuff so that they could take up the least possible space. So there was even some room in the bedroom for a small dresser with Castiel's clothes.

The rest of the place had been arranged mostly according to Gabriel's taste, but Castiel had managed to step in so that his eccentric big brother wouldn't hang sparkly unicorns from the ceiling or add a dancing pole. It wasn't anything really impressive, just the necessary things – a bed, a table, a couple of chairs, a couch, mostly what Bobby had left there – but Gabriel had managed to find small things to give colour and a sense of home that Castiel would have never thought of, like a colourful cover for the couch or a warm carpet. It was impossible to notice that the whole place was practically built on old furniture that had stayed in a storage room for more than a decade.

The big change was on the walls. There were many of Bobby's things that couldn't be arranged anywhere else in the house, so Gabriel had bought a dozen of big, colourful boxes and put everything inside. He'd arranged everything on the shelves, giving at least a sense of order and cleanness. Under the shelves he'd put Castiel's little bookcase, where the first books stood proudly, like they were sensing their owner's happiness to have them. On the rest of the wall, Castiel had somehow managed, without ever having tried to draw, to paint big, white clouds that reminded him of simpler days and that made the walls look like windows to a summer sky. The final touch was something that Castiel had disagreed with at first, but Gabriel had insisted so much there was no way of escaping it: a cord of colourful Christmas lights that went all the way around the place. Castiel had tried to avoid that at first with logical arguments ("The birth of Christ isn't a reason to put lights around the house, where has this tradition even come from?" or "Let alone the fact that the date of the celebration is extremely inaccurate, we both know He wasn't born in December") and then with some weaker ones ("But it's still November! Shouldn't we put the lights around on Christmas day?"), but with his opponent being Gabriel, he stood no chance. He wouldn't admit it any time soon, but he was happy he'd lost the argument. The house looked hauntingly beautiful with those colourful little electric fireflies, and in the end the whole picture gave Castiel a feeling of actually belonging somewhere that he couldn't explain for the life of him.

He decided that the expression on Dean and Sam's faces was worth the trouble ten times over.

"I assume that you like it", he managed to say in the end. Sam and Dean looked at him, Sam's jaw still dropped, and Dean laughed loud and clear.

"Seriously, man, this is awesome", he said. "I mean for crying out loud, last time I came in here this place was a freaking storehouse! How did you manage to turn it into a house within two days? This isn't humanly possible!"

Castiel shrugged, hoping Dean was just using an expression and didn't actually mean that he'd noticed something wasn't human about him. "Well, to be completely fair, you two helped a lot", he reminded Dean. "But my brother's a hurricane, I swear. If he gets excited about something, he won't stop until everything's done the way he wants it".

"Still, managing _this?"_ Sam exclaimed. "I'm officially impressed, and I apologise for not bringing anything for the housewarming. I thought we should wait until it looked like, you know, a house, but I could never imagine it would already be done. I take my hat off to you guys".

"Am I hearing that there's a young man wanting to give me respect?"

Castiel turned around along with Dean and Sam, to see his brother finally having come out of the bathroom, dressed and ready, with a friendly smirk on his face and—

Well, Castiel should really confront his brother about not letting him get a Christmas sweater but wearing one himself.

Gabriel approached them and gave Sam his hand. "Hello, guys", he greeted. "Any respects you want to give, feel free to address me".

Dean snorted, even with a hint of amusement, but Sam laughed as he shook Gabriel's hand. "You're Gabriel, I assume", he said, and Gabriel nodded.

"Of course, of course", he said. "And you must be Sam, the big brother, right?"

"Actually", Dean interrupted, "I'm the older one".

"I didn't say 'older', I said 'big', chump", winked Gabriel and finally let go of Sam's hand to shake Dean's. Sam chuckled and, to Castiel's surprise, he seemed to blush a bit. Dean rolled his eyes.

"I guess you have a point", he said. "And well, I can't hold grudges against the dude who helped my pal Jimmy with his place", he went on, winking at Castiel, who smiled.

"Your pal Jimmy, of course", Gabriel repeated absentmindedly, and helped Dean and Sam to the couch. Castiel knew his brother was taking his whole identity thing quite hard, but well, there was nothing either of them could do. He just hoped Gabriel wouldn't accidentally let his guard down and start talking about "his brother Cassie" – at least, not until he was sure whether Dean had heard his name in his dream.

He shook his head while he was going back to the kitchen.

His life was weirder than ever; and he didn't even count the fact that his wings were itching.

: : :

Dean believed he managed to not show any surprise at the look of Jimmy's brother. He seemed to be Jimmy's opposite everything, but seemed just as likeable, just in a different way; a way that Dean wasn't sure if he'd keep appreciating for long, but he couldn't judge anyone so early. Gabriel, for starters, seemed to share Dean's "I'm shorter than my baby brother" condition, which made him an instant ally; he had light brown hair, opposing to Jimmy's dark, and his eyes were a cunning hazel instead of Jimmy's deep blue. He looked like he would take up every opportunity to enjoy life and have his fun.

For now, Gabriel seemed to have grabbed the opportunity to talk to Sam, making Dean feel a little left out, borderline uncomfortable. He was sure as hell happy to see Sam talking enthusiastically again; Gabriel seemed to be the perfect mood-lifter for him right now. But still, Dean could appreciate a little bit of attention towards his side of the couch.

He remained silent for a while, watching Sam and Gabriel talk; he learnt that Gabriel was twenty-eight, and that he had left home because he couldn't stand his family's strict rules and expectations of him. He said he used to be considered one of the most promising children of the family, and his folks had expected him to follow their footsteps and take up the job, be exactly like his elders, and that they couldn't deal with him wanting to become a pastry chef and being – as he said – the definition of pansexuality. Dean felt some relatable sympathy at that, because hell, he'd had his share of close-mindedness and homophobia, and he knew that he could never call his dad and say "hey Dad, guess what; your eldest is bisexual". And he knew that his father wouldn't like him to go to college and become anything else but a mechanic either; he probably wouldn't be able to accept both his sons not following the family business. Dean realised he had never thought about doing anything else than fixing cars for a living, because that's what was expected of him. He didn't say it out loud, but he definitely gave Gabriel a lot of respect for giving it all up to chase his dream. Even though, he thought, it wouldn't cost Gabriel anything to contact his little brother every now and then.

Well, at least he was here now, and he'd done one hell of a job. Dean couldn't blame him for long.

To his surprise, Dean found himself watching Sam starting to open up to Gabriel. Sam talked vaguely about their mother's death and how their father had started working like crazy to distract himself, teaching them how to take over the garage someday, and how Sam hated working on cars and wanted to become a lawyer. He told Gabriel about how Dean had supported him in front of their father when he decided to pursue his dream career, and how they'd fought, and how he and Dean had made the decision to leave home and make it on their own.

At the point when Sam started saying how thankful he was for his brother supporting him despite his first objections, and for him working two jobs so Sam could go to college, Dean got up and left them alone. It was obvious they were having a good time on their own; plus, Dean was sure Gabriel was the kind of person who'd tease the shit out of him if he saw him blushing after his brother's praise.

So Dean went to the kitchen, feeling a little bad for having left Jimmy alone for this long.

"Hey, buddy", he said as soon as he saw his friend putting something that Dean barely managed to glimpse in the oven and sigh in relief. Jimmy's eyes brightened.

"Hey", he greeted back. "Everything okay?"

"Sure. I'm sorry, but was that pie?" asked Dean, pointing at the oven.

Jimmy averted his eyes. "Well, yes. I remembered you liked them, and they looked easy to bake". Before Dean could get over his sudden urge to hug him, Jimmy went on. "Is there something you want?"

"No, no, I just… came to see if you needed any help in here", said Dean awkwardly, rubbing his neck. "I guess I came too late".

Jimmy smiled. "It's the thought that counts", he said. "I didn't want you to stop your talk for my sake. I can manage. Or, at least, I hope I managed".

Dean half-laughed, half-snorted. "Well, no need to worry, because I haven't been a part of the talk for some time now", he commented. "These two are having the time of their life in there. Made me feel like I was part of the decorations".

Jimmy laughed, and Dean had to stop himself from clutching his chest; he was sure that fluttering in there wasn't natural – and it wasn't just the fact that the guy was making freaking pie for him. "Well, at least Sam seems to be feeling better now", said Jimmy. "May I ask what the problem was? You looked really concerned about him before, and I must admit, I was worried about him. Is there anything that we could do?"

Dean hesitated, but in the end he decided he should just let it all out. "I believe Gabe's doing everything he can already, and he didn't even know Sammy was feeling blue", he observed, ignoring Jimmy's amused frown at his brother's new, out-of-nowhere nickname. "And I'm thankful for that, man, I really am. Sam's in a bad place. He was planning to go talk to a girl he'd put his eye on in college, and he found out she was killed in a car accident a few days ago. It's a terrible thing to happen".

Dean could see the sadness forming in Jimmy's eyes. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea", he murmured.

"Actually—" Dean started, but hesitated. Then he went for it. "Look, it might sound terrible, but, I think you did".

Jimmy tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"I think—" Dean took a deep breath. "I'm sorry to ask, man, I really am. Your… _your_ Jessica… you said she was planning to be a lawyer. Was she in pre-law?"

Dean was really scared to ask the next questions, and suddenly felt like an asshole. Yes, Jimmy had said he didn't have any romantic feelings for his Jessica, but that didn't mean he wasn't denying his feelings even to himself. What if it turned out that Jimmy and Sam had a crush on the same girl?

To Dean's terror and relief at the same time, he saw Jimmy's eyes widen in realisation.

"You think Sam was interested in the girl I told you about", he deduced.

Dean felt his mouth and throat dry. "God, Jimmy", he muttered. "I'm sorry to bring this up. I shouldn't have said anything; it was a horrible thing to say. I didn't want to—"

"No, it's okay", said Jimmy and to Dean's surprise, he half-smiled. "You might be right. I thought your brother looked somewhat familiar when I first saw him. There was a chance I'd seen him in one of Jessica's classes. And to be frank, how many Jessica's in pre-law could have been killed in a car accident in this area a few days ago?"

Dean knew that look; the practical, cold-blooded, matter-of-fact tone that Jimmy was using to be logical. He also knew the slight trembling of the voice and the distant look. Oh, he did know.

"Jimmy—"

"Don't tell him".

Dean blinked. "What?" he asked softly.

Jimmy wasn't looking at him. "_Please_ don't tell him", he repeated softly.

Dean came closer to Jimmy and tried to look into his eyes, without success. "Why?"

Jimmy bit his lip. "Dean, I… I was the reason she died. No, don't try to talk me out of this", he cut Dean off before he managed to open his mouth to protest. "I might be a coward, but… I don't want your brother to know I was the reason he will never have a chance with the girl he had feelings for. Maybe he was the one Jessica was meant to be with. Now we'll never know, because of me. I managed to deal with the consequences of my actions when Jessica died, but I don't think I could handle your brother's reasonable hatred for robbing him of his possible happily ever after".

Dean stared at Jimmy for a moment, unable to find anything to say.

How could this person take all responsibility on his shoulders? Even if – and Dean highly doubted that – even if Jimmy was actually responsible for Jessica's death, nobody could argue that it wasn't intentional; and nobody, in Dean's opinion, deserved to bear so much regret and doubt and self-loathing for something they didn't do on purpose. Sure, if it was his fault, he'd done something terrible, but still…

Dean couldn't believe that Jimmy could possibly be a bad person.

He took a good look at him; the wonderful guy with the name that didn't suit him. Dean felt a little bad for having given him his nickname, but it was like he'd known from the first moment of their meeting that he'd need a kind of affectionate name to call him. How could he not appreciate his presence? It was just a few days that he was here, and Dean already felt like a better person. Of course, many things had happened these days; Dean realised that when he was with Jimmy, he didn't even care about the weird dreams with the angel.

He suddenly remembered that the first time he'd seen the angel, he'd reminded him of Jimmy, and he fought the urge to laugh. How could he not notice? Jimmy was truly godsend, and he'd probably made such an impression on Dean that his subconscious decided to picture him as an angel. It would suit him, anyway. A guardian angel of a girl that died before her time, who now had to fall and live away from what he knew so far. It surely was ironic.

Dean put his hand on Jimmy's shoulder tenderly, not entirely sure why he did it. Jimmy looked up, his eyes just a tad wet, his face a mask of hidden questions.

"Dean?" he mumbled, but Dean shushed him.

How could he not see it before? He'd seen how wonderful this guy was from the beginning. It had been only a few days, but Dean already felt like he knew Jimmy for a lifetime. It was like their souls had touched. He couldn't explain why it had happened so quickly, but Dean knew at the moment he looked straight into Jimmy's sad, blue eyes that he never wanted to look away.

"You know, you deserve to be happy", he muttered as he moved his hand towards Jimmy's nape; he felt his heart race as he saw Jimmy's full lips part slightly in surprise.

He let his hand slip down the slope of Jimmy's arm and tangled their fingers together.

Jimmy didn't resist when Dean started walking towards the bedroom.


	12. Revelations of All Sorts, pt1

Gabriel and Sam stopped their talk for a moment to watch as Dean led Castiel to a more private part of the house.

"Wow", said Sam. "Can you believe they forgot there's only a pass separating the kitchen from the rest of the house?"

Gabriel giggled. "Man, we're gonna have such a good time messing with them later".

Sam laughed. "You bet", he agreed. "But I think I'm gonna go easy on them. I don't really want to ruin this for Dean. He's been through a lot of shit lately".

Gabriel tilted his head slightly. "Really? What kind?"

"Well", Sam started, "he broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago, for starters".

"Bummer", commented Gabriel. "Were they together long?"

"About five years, on and off", Sam informed him. "She seemed like the perfect girl, and then—" he hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "Well, I guess Dean kinda came out to you anyway when he took your brother by the hand in a private spot, so I'm allowed to say what happened. She freaked out when he told her he realised he's bi".

Gabriel made a disgusted grimace. "Jesus, the nerve of some people".

"I know", said Sam. "And anyway, I feel bad for making him worried about me. I'm really, really down today and I feel a little selfish for distracting him".

"Come on, it's been a long day for you too", Gabriel noted. "No need to beat yourself up".

"Well, the more I think about it, the more I realise it was shock more than anything else. I mean, the reason I felt so terrible. It was mostly shock", Sam tried to explain. "I know Dean thinks I'm heartbroken, but the truth is… I barely even knew the girl. It's true, I had hoped that maybe, one day, something might happen between us but that's it. I believed that we were a possible match, but… well. No need to bore you with that anymore".

"No, it's okay", Gabriel encouraged Sam. "What was her name again?"

"Jessica", replied Sam. "Jessica Moore".

Gabriel remained still. It couldn't be. No. No way.

Castiel's charge.

Okay. No need to panic. Castiel could never learn about this; that was all. He was already feeling terrible for failing Jessica; Gabriel could never let him find out that he actually knew and cared about the guy whom Jessica was probably supposed to be with. That was easy. Wasn't Gabriel the Trickster of Tricksters, after all?

Only he needed to find a way to make Sam never speak of this in front of Cas without letting him know about the angel thing.

Crap.

And the worst part was… well, Gabriel kept finding himself unable to concentrate and come up with new ideas while he was around Sam. At first he had agreed to meet Castiel's new friends because… well, for the obvious reasons: he was a big brother and he had to get to know what had managed to make his little brother happy; especially when that little something had given said little brother so much comfort and a pleasant place to spend his sentence on Earth. He hadn't actually imagined he'd end up liking those people, especially Sam. Not that he didn't think Dean was an okay dude; but Dean had a little something that made Gabriel want to constantly make fun of him, and if that fun included annoying the crap out of him, then even better. But Sam… well, Sam was very mature for his nineteen years, and he had a sense of humor that Gabriel could easily appreciate. He was good looking in a childish kind of way, and he seemed completely unaware of the effect his impressive height and well-built body and genuine smile had to the people around him. Even at that particular moment, when he was sad and not at the best of times, Gabriel could easily see the lively fire burning inside him. Gabriel definitely wanted to get to know him more.

What was he thinking about before? Something about Castiel?

Oh, well.

: : :

Castiel felt his heart race against his chest as he saw Dean close the door behind them and then turn around to look at him. Their eyes met and Castiel could swear he had never seen anything like what he was seeing inside Dean's eyes.

Castiel noticed Dean's slightly disappointed expression when he took a look at the room; it definitely didn't look like a bedroom anymore. It had just a pile of Bobby's old things and a dresser. In the end, Dean sat on a trunk and patted the surface next to him, inviting Castiel to sit down.

"I don't understand", Castiel muttered as he sat next to Dean. "Why did you—"

His sentence was cut as Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips against his own. Castiel's eyes widened in surprise and he let out a small gasp. He didn't move.

After a moment, Dean pulled back, looking embarrassed and – could it be? – surprised.

They kept looking at each other for a moment, and then Dean turned away, hiding his face in his palms. "Shit", he murmured. "Shit, man, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Of course you did", said Castiel softly, and Dean looked up. Castiel frowned as his fingers touched his own lips, as though he wasn't sure what had just happened. Then he looked back into Dean's eyes and smiled ever so slightly.

"Is this why you brought me in here?" asked Castiel gently. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to ask questions, but he had no idea how these things worked. He watched as Dean's face turned into a bright red.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Dean started awkwardly, "I just thought there was something there. Look, I'm a jackass, okay? Just… let's pretend this never happened".

Castiel frowned, tilting his head. "Why?" he asked.

"Don't tease me, man", said Dean, with an annoyed tone. "I jumped to conclusions about you and I'm sorry, but you let me take you by the hand and I thought…" He got up. "Nevermind, okay? I'm sorry".

"No, Dean, wait", Castiel said, now feeling a bit embarrassed himself. Dean looked at him. "Look, I… I've never done anything like this before. You just caught me off guard. I didn't expect that you might want to…" he bit his lip, not knowing how to go on.

Dean let out a small, gentle laugh. "What kind of language did I have to use?" he teased softly. "I mean, I thought I made myself clear when I brought you here".

"Well, 'clear' is a wide range", commented Castiel, looking away.

"Have you seriously never…" Dean started.

Castiel shook his head. "Very seriously. And I haven't the slightest idea how this works".

"This is impossible", commented Dean. "Have you _seen_ you?" He thought about it for a moment. "Or do you just mean that you haven't… with a guy?"

"With anyone", Castiel admitted.

"Why the hell not?" asked Dean. Castiel wasn't insulted by the tone; he had learnt to tell appart Dean's surprised tone from his angry one.

"It just didn't happen", Castiel said. "I never wanted to before now. I'm sorry if I made you feel unwanted, because that's definitely not the case".

Dean laughed. "I can't believe it", he said quietly and Castiel felt the warmth of Dean's hand around his own.

"What… what can't you believe?" muttered Castiel.

"That this is actually happening", said Dean softly. "That I'm holding your hand, and that you're actually saying that… you want me, while you haven't wanted anyone else before. I'm way too flattered to think straight. And to be honest, I can't believe I had such a huge crush on you only after a few days of knowing you".

Castiel didn't know how to answer. He didn't even know if he was supposed to answer. He couldn't believe something so… human was happening to him.

And most of all, he couldn't believe that he didn't want it to go away. He wasn't scared of it. He wanted to stay here with Dean until the end of his days.

His days.

Not Dean's.

Could it be?

Could this mortal boy be more worth to Castiel than his entire existence so far?

How could this possibly have happened?

And then he knew what he needed to do.

"Do it again", he whispered. Dean looked at him questioningly.

Castiel leaned forward. "What you did before. Do it again".

Dean's eyes widened in realisation and joy, and with a quick move Castiel found himself with a strong hand on his nape and a pair of warm lips on his mouth.

He gave in this time. He followed Dean's lead and closed his eyes, and copied Dean's movements to kiss him back. His nostrils filled with Dean's scent, stronger than ever before. His right hand travelled on Dean's left shoulder and held on tight; his left hand shyly crept up Dean's waist. Dean's hands answered by wrapping around the sides of Castiel's neck, his fingers on his nape and his thumbs on his jawline. Every breath was synchronised and every breath brought more of Dean's scent inside Castiel's very being.

He couldn't even remember how many millennia he'd been alive, and yet, he couldn't ever remember feeling something this great before.

That was it. He wasn't supposed to be doing this, but the hell with it. He would burn the script and dance on the ashes.

There was no going back.

: : :

Dean savoured every second of it. He couldn't believe it. His entire brain was screaming, and yet he couldn't stop. He was kissing a guy he'd only just met a few days ago. And –who would have ever thought – he was feeling like he was already falling for him.

He didn't freak out. For some reason, he couldn't freak out. It all felt… _normal_, even though he couldn't explain it to save his life. It was all perfect. The long fingers on his shoulder and waist felt right, and he could swear he'd never tasted anything sweeter than the mouth he was kissing. He could tell that Jimmy had made apple pie for his first time, because he'd tasted it before putting it in the oven and now Dean was tasting it too, and it was awesome. Jimmy smelled like sweat and cinnamon and aftershave, and Dean's fingers were brushing off lumps of flour off his partner's freshly-shaven cheeks, and he found it so adorable he wanted to scream in joy.

Yes. Truly godsend.

Dean's whole being suddenly filled with a warm energy that made his heart race and his shoulders shiver; it was unearthly and familiar and scary, because so far he thought it only belonged in a dream.

And he loved it.

He felt the hand on his shoulder tighten and he almost felt like it was burning. He didn't pull away. He was happy, for once, and he wouldn't let it go. He was suddenly sure that he knew what had happened the previous nights. His mind was clear and his heart longed for more.

His lungs suddenly screamed for a breath. He broke the kiss unwillingly, but didn't open his eyes, and he knew that he wasn't the only one. Both of them panted softly, their lips still touching, their eyes closed, breathing each other's air.

"Dean". He felt the whisper more than he heard it.

"It's okay, Cas".


	13. Revelations of All Sorts, pt2

_What did I just say?_

Dean pulled away, panic rising in his chest. Jimmy had tilted his head and his eyes were only reflecting curiosity and surprise.

How could Dean be so stupid? How could he possibly explain that his brain had played games in his dreams and had transformed the perfect human being he'd just met into an angel and had given him another name? How could he ever explain that there was no other guy or anything? _How could he ever get out of this?_

"Dean?"

He didn't even listen. He'd felt the same energy before, and it was so divine and unearthly that it could easily be confused with something heavenly. But how, how could he have called a guy with an imaginary name he'd subconsciously made up?

Because there was no way, no way that this was actually real. These things didn't happen.

"Dean".

He looked up. Jimmy didn't look angry, only confused.

"Look, Jimmy, I'm—"

"What did you call me before?"

_Oh, crap._ "I swear, it's not what you think", Dean said hurriedly. "I just… I had a stupid dream, and I swear I saw you there, and it was all so weird, you know? You… you were like… an angel, and it was all so real that I got lost for a moment, and it was _so freaking real_ that for a moment I'd thought I'd found a freaking feather on the floor when I woke up, and—" he sighed. "I'm so sorry. It's just, these were the best dreams of my life, and _you were there_, and—"

"You heard?"

Dean stopped. "What?"

"Why did you call me Cas?" Jimmy insisted. "Did you hear it?"

"Uh…" Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Heard what?"

"My name, Dean", said Jimmy impatiently. "You heard, didn't you?"

Dean frowned. Nothing made sense. "But—" he started. "In a _dream_. I had a dream, and in that dream, you were an angel", he tried to explain, unsure. "I didn't know at first that it was you that I was dreaming about, but it was. Now I _know_ it was. And you said… the _dream_ _you_, he said his name was Cas. I don't know why. It was the last thing he said to me in the dream".

They remained silent for a moment. _Great, _Deanthought_. One good thing in both our lives, and I had to go and screw it up. _He saw Jimmy opening his mouth to speak and he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Castiel".

He kept staring at Jimmy.

"What?" he asked.

Jimmy took a deep breath. "It's Castiel", he said. "Not 'Cas'. Castiel. You didn't hear the whole name".

Dean felt his cheeks burn. "Look, I know what I say sounds crazy, but there's no need for you to—"

"Dean", Jimmy cut him off and there was an authority in his voice that Dean had never heard before. "I'm not mocking you. You know it was real. Trust your instincts".

Dean laughed awkwardly. "My instincts suck, man", he said. "I'm going nuts. I can't tell dream from reality, apparently".

"It's strange how often these two collide".

Dean watched in awe as Jimmy took off his hoodie, producing small clouds of flour. Dean, for some reason, knew that nothing was going to happen that day; he kept watching, though. His mind was a blurry mess.

"No more masks for me, Dean", Jimmy said softly.

And then Dean saw the person in front of him change and transform. He heard the cracks of the bones and he saw the light, and he witnessed the two giant, feathery black arches take shape over both their heads, blocking his view.

He felt weak in the knees; he grabbed the wall and slid down, breathing heavily.

He wasn't scared.

He had no idea why he wasn't scared. He should be. Every single cell in his brain was telling him that he should be scared, or at least a bit shocked.

He wasn't. He was just happy. And at that moment, he knew that he was the one to chase the angel in his dream, and if that wasn't destiny, then he'd made it happen.

He looked up and saw two blue, sad eyes questioning him without words.

He waited for a moment to catch his breath.

"Of course it's you", he murmured. "How could it not be you?"

There was no answer, just an awkward silence.

Dean tried to get up. He felt a warm hand reaching to his aid; he took it. He pressed his temples a little bit to stop the throbbing.

And then he turned and took a good look at the angel.

He looked exactly the same as before. Well, except for the two huge black wings sprouting from his shoulders. He was solid, made of flesh, with nothing unearthly on his presence except a warm aura that made Dean want to curl up into a ball and sleep, protected by anything evil in this world. His dark hair was messy as ever, his eyes the same deep blue, his skin as pale. Dean noticed the small cut on his jawline, where he had probably cut himself when shaving, and the smudges of flour on his face and hands.

Dean laughed loud and clear. It was definitely the weirdest, best thing to happen in his life so far.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Dean asked, smiling wide.

Castiel smiled back. "Thank you for trusting me, Dean", he said gently.

"If you say so".

Dean came closer to his angel and gently put his hands on his waist. Slowly, he slid them upwards to his ribs and then his shoulderblades, awkwardly touching the bases of his wings. They were strong and soft and alive, and Dean found himself really, really interested in them.

He looked into his angel's eyes and smiled again.

"I knew 'Jimmy' didn't suit you", he said.

Castiel laughed softly and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. "I had grown rather fond of it, though", he commented.

Dean chuckled. "If you like nicknames, can I stick to 'Cas'?"

Castiel's smile widened. "I don't see why not".

Dean grabbed a handful of feathers in each hand, making Castiel inhale loudly. "Then, may I kiss you again, Cas?" he asked teasingly.

"I still don't see why not".

Dean laughed and pressed his lips against Castiel's, grabbing the feathers tightly, as Castiel's hands got busy on his back and in his hair. He tried to push Castiel against the wall, but found himself pressed against the wall instead, with the strongest grip he'd ever felt on his body and the softest kiss he'd ever tasted on his lips.

Oh, yes. That was going to really interesting.


	14. When One Thing Ends

Sam and Dean were back at their place and sound asleep for a while now. Castiel and Gabriel had managed to take care of the mess they'd all left behind after the mac-and-cheese-and-also-pie-and-beer fest they'd held; Gabriel had admitted that Castiel had managed very well in his first try of cooking, let alone baking anything, and Dean had appreciated the fact that Castiel had made a pie so much, that he hadn't held back and had kissed Castiel without a trace of shame in front of both their brothers. It had been quite a good night.

A little after taking care of the last few things, Gabriel took Castiel in the couch to talk. Castiel knew that it was time they discussed a few things.

"So, brother dear", started Gabriel, "did you and Dean hit it off well?"

Castiel tilted his head. "I assume that means something I don't really want to know".

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Did you do it back there?"

Castiel blushed. "No. But I guess it will happen, eventually".

"Do you want it to happen?" asked Gabriel.

Castiel thought about it for a second. Yes, there was no doubt. "You know what, I really think I do", he admitted. "I never thought that I would, but… I really do. Isn't this what you wanted for me, anyway?"

Gabriel grinned. "Sure, sure", he said. "I'm just wondering if that's what you truly want. I wouldn't want to see my little brother in a bad state".

Castiel took a deep breath. "I don't think I've ever wanted anything more than this, Gabriel", he said quietly. "I don't mean just…" he sighed. "I mean everything. Dean. This life. This place. I've come to love it so much that I never want to leave it. I finally understand what you've been saying all this time. I never want to go".

Gabriel gave him a little pat on the thigh. "I can relate, little bro", he said. "And you know what, I like this place too. I'm getting a little tired of wandering around. I've seen this world over and over and over again, and I've never settled down. I think I wanna try that, for a change. Meet new people, have fun; this kind of stuff. It sounds nice, don't you think?"

Castiel smiled. "Certainly".

They both stayed silent for a while.

"So what are you going to do now?" asked Castiel in the end.

Gabriel shrugged. "I think I am really going to become a pastry chef", he suggested. "It's a nice, respectable thing to do, and… Well, who am I kidding, I'm just looking for excuses to devour as many sweets as I possibly can. But it's an idea that I like, and you can even help me with it, if you want and you're not busy humping the shit out of your new boyfriend".

Castiel knew that he had blushed, but he looked up anyway. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I'm just saying, bro", said Gabriel, "you managed to bake a pretty awesome pie tonight. We could open a little place together, if you want. Sam's also looking for a job, so he might waiter for us, if we ask him. What do you think?"

Castiel felt a warm flutter in his chest. "That's amazing, Gabriel", he exclaimed. "This is a great idea!"

"You think?" Gabriel beamed.

"Definitely!"

"Okay then", Gabriel said and rubbed his hands together. "We'll get started on it as soon as possible".

Castiel nodded, smiling. "So you're really planning to stay?"

Gabriel bit his lip. "Well, yeah. It's something new for me".

"And you're sure that it's got nothing to do with Sam?"

Gabriel blinked. "How did you, of all people—"

Castiel laughed. "It was Dean who noticed at first, but after he pointed it out I saw it too. You two were all over each other, all night long".

Gabriel put up his hands apologetically. "Guilty", he admitted. "It's one of my reasons to stay. But what does it matter, in the end? The point is, I am staying and I want us to have an awesome time, as long as we have it. And later, who knows; we can end up wherever we want".

Castiel looked away. Well, this time would come, eventually. "Actually, Gabriel…" he started, "I think… I think I'm going to stay for good".

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah, I got that", he said. "But afterwards, when—"

"No, you don't get it", Castiel stopped him. He tried to steady his voice. "I mean… I'm staying. I'm falling. I don't want anything more than this".

Gabriel looked at him for a while.

"You can't be serious", he said. "You're not actually planning to drink the water from Lethe, are you? Don't you know what will happen?"

Castiel gulped. "Don't think that I'm not scared, Gabriel", he said. "I'm terrified. But you chose to come here, so you don't need to do this. I was sent here, and they will check on me if I don't fall. They will want to know what's the matter with me and why I haven't contacted them. And if they find me while I'm still an angel, the consequences will be terrible. They will make me fall then, and it won't be easy. At least now I can choose to do it on my own terms".

"Cas, you can't do that!" yelled Gabriel and Castiel blinked. "It will _never_ be on your terms! Don't you know what happens if you actually drink that? You choose to forget! You will forget who you are! That bottle doesn't only have your name on it; that bottle is actually _you_. It's the memory the angelic world has of you, your _imprint_. If that water is consumed, you'll cancel yourself from our world! I had one too, when I left. They don't give it to you; it appears next to you when you give up Heaven, willingly or not. Don't you see? It's symbolic; by consuming yourself, you're denying yourself the right to exist. Everyone up there will forget you, but so will you. You will be left here, just a human with Grace and without any memory of how on Earth you got it. It will either drive you mad, or you will have to rip it out yourself; because your Grace will always remember who you used to be, but your mind will be denying it. In the end, you will become Jimmy Novak, and that's not who you are. You're my brother, Cas; I can't let you go. Not like this".

Castiel's eyes met Gabriel's, and he knew that his brother was telling the truth.

"But if…" he started, but he didn't know what to say next. "What can I do, Gabriel?"

"Stay here for a while, and then leave", suggested Gabriel. "Travel. Be on the run, the way I've been. There's no other way for us".

"But there has to be", Castiel insisted, and then paused. "I'm going to ask Dean", he said.

Gabriel blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I'm going to ask Dean's opinion", Castiel repeated. "He might have an idea".

"You're going to ask Dean about your angel problems?" Gabriel asked. "Do you even remember that he doesn't—"

"He knows".

Gabriel remained frozen for a moment. "Say what now?"

"Dean knows about me", Castiel repeated. "He reached for my Grace when I tried to heal him and saw me, and we talked while he was asleep. He noticed my Grace again when we kissed, so I told him everything afterwards. I didn't want to hide".

Gabriel's breathing was fast. "Are you crazy? You told a human about us because you have a crush?"

"That human saved me, Gabriel", Castiel stood his ground. "His soul touched my Grace uninvited. He's seen my true self and he's handled it, and I've seen and healed his soul! You know this isn't a simple issue; no matter what, we're bonded now. I can't leave him. It's not a 'crush', and it has never been. From the first moment, he was destined to cross paths with our kind".

"But it's forbidden!" yelled Gabriel. "You know what the rules—"

"I don't care about the rules!" shouted Castiel. "They casted me out, Gabriel; they can't choose for me what rules I should obey and what I should not. I'm an outcast because they chose it, not me; I might as well act like one. It's my life from now on, and I choose to reveal myself to the person who revealed himself to me".

They looked straight into each other's eyes for a moment. Castiel's hands were trembling. He was about to lose another brother, wasn't he?

And then, Gabriel grinned.

"You pass the test, little bro", he said and Castiel blinked. "Free Will, achieved".

He rubbed his hands together.

"Now let's see how we get you out of this".

: : :

Balthazar heard the call long before his superiors. He knew what this was about.

He found Anael when she was rushing to Uriel; it couldn't have taken this little time for their younger brother to manage to redeem himself, and it would definitely take more for him to decide to fall.

But then came the second call.

It couldn't be. After so many centuries…

Balthazar followed Anael and Uriel to Earth, travelling at the speed of light. They had to take care of this as soon as possible.

They found themselves in a very small flat. They could feel their other-dimensional wings crowd in there. They looked around at the clouds on the walls.

And then, there they were.

Castiel, looking too human for their taste, even while they were inside their vessels.

And behind him…

Oh, the traitor. The beloved brother who'd given up on them all. Balthazar stared at him, and immediately knew that Gabriel was up to something.

He didn't speak.

"Castiel", boomed Uriel's voice. "I see you've found our number one missing brother".

Castiel didn't speak.

"Do you honestly think this is enough?" asked Anael. "We are definitely impressed, but you need to make up for your mistakes, Castiel, not become a warrior, or a head hunter. That was never your job, and it never will be".

"He knows about all that shit", said Gabriel. "We didn't call you so that he could hand me over to you".

"Then what is it?" asked Uriel.

"We're falling", Castiel announced. "Together".

Balthazar blinked, but he mostly noticed the horrified expression on Uriel's face and the hurt on Anael's.

"You can't be serious", said Anael.

"We most definitely are, sister dear", said Gabriel. "I'm tired of all the running, and all the hide-and-seek. Time to rest a little, don't you think? I might as well save you the trouble".

"No", Anael exclaimed as the three of them watched Gabriel and Castiel take out their crystal vials. "You can't do this. The point wasn't to watch you fall, it was to get you back, stronger and better. You're our brothers! Please, stop this madness!"

"The point is", Castiel started, "that we don't think 'stronger and better' has the same meaning for us as it does to you anymore".

"You see, we got something really awesome while we were here", added Gabriel. "Something that you'll never have".

"What's that?" Uriel asked, furious. "Fame? Glory? Money? We laugh at you!"

"Try free will, bitch", said Gabriel and Balthazar managed to hide his laughter. He watched as Gabriel clinked his vial with Castiel's. "Bottoms up". And Gabriel pulled the curtain away from the window to reveal a banishment sigil drawn on the glass.

"No!" screamed Anael as she, Uriel and Balthazar got the last glimpse of their brothers drink the water of oblivion, while being sent back to heaven in a flash of light. Balthazar felt sad for a moment; he liked both his brothers. He didn't want to forget them. For a while, he kept their faces in his mind; their true faces and the ones he just saw.

He tried for a while, but it became harder and harder. After a few moments, he couldn't recall what it was exactly that they'd been doing; somebody had fallen, yes, but he didn't remember exactly who.

He still felt sad, though.

As Anael and Uriel walked away to attend to their matters, two words remained in Balthazar's mind, carved deep inside, never to leave.

Free will.

He'd remember them again one day.


	15. Epilogue

_November 27th_

Castiel brought out the huge cake carefully and placed it in the middle table under the sound of clapping. He smiled as he looked around and saw all these people applauding and laughing; there was Bobby and Ellen, and Jo, Chuck, Becky, Ash, and of course Gabriel, the proud owner, and Sam, and obviously Dean, the man that had been the start and reason for all this happiness.

God knew how Gabriel managed to find this place and turn it into a pastry shop in four days; maybe, not even He knew, now that things had turned this way. The point is, he'd made it. Castiel had taken care of the inside, the walls and the decoration and everything that needed to be designed, and Gabriel had taken care of everything else. Dean and Sam had helped as much as they could, and even Bobby had come to give a hand; in fact, he'd given Gabriel some of the stuff that remained in Castiel's bedroom, so in the end, everything had found its place.

Castiel wasn't sure if he wanted to celebrate his supposed birthday, but Gabriel decided to open the shop – which he ironically had named Heaven – on November 27th, so there weren't many things Castiel could do to avoid the celebration.

Besides, Gabriel had said, they had many things to celebrate about.

Looking around, he could actually feel the little part of himself inside Gabriel, Dean and Sam, and he could also feel Gabriel's little part inside him. He had never imagined his brother's plan would work, and he had never expected Sam to react so calmly to the truth, let alone help them. Splitting the water from Castiel and Gabriel's vials in three equal parts each and having three different people drink them had sounded like a crazy idea; but in the end, Castiel had to admit that he would one day have to admit his brother's extreme intelligence. By having their water consumed, they would erase the memory of their existence from the angelic world; by not drinking it themselves, they would avoid the symbolism and the part where they forgot about their true heritage; that's what Gabriel had assumed. It was a long shot, both the try and the fact that he managed to trick the other angels into believing they were drinking from the real vials, let alone the fact that he hid Dean and Sam successfully in the next room, so that they could drink their part at the same time.

Both Dean and Sam looked healthier than ever, Castiel had to admit. They might never become family by blood, but they'd proven themselves worthy of the title a hundred times over. Sam, especially, who had no idea about the existence of angels before Castiel and Gabriel came asking for his help, had managed to take it all in with remarkable courage.

So yes, Castiel thought; for once, they managed to do the right thing.

He knew that neither his nor Gabriel's Grace would be as strong from now on; but they didn't care. They liked it here, and if that meant they'd need to change the defaults a little bit, then who cared? There were so many new things to do.

Castiel was actually happy to listen to the birthday song including his real name; he was far happier when, at the end of the song, Dean photobombed the group picture by grabbing and kissing him, under the sound of cheers. After that, he and Gabe – well, he liked being called Gabe – started a contest: which one would manage to kiss his Winchester in more pictures than the other. In the end, Castiel and Sam had to threaten both their dates with a restriction to touch the cake and other stuff if they didn't stop.

At the end of the night, when most guests had left or just sat quietly in the corner, and Castiel was sitting in Dean's lap, relaxed after a long day, he let his eyes wonder towards Gabe and Sam. He thought about Jessica, and whether she was destined to be with Sam.

He smiled fondly. Jessica was okay. She was happy in her own Heaven, and if it truly was Castiel's fault, he would face her again one day and deal with it then.

And if he'd stolen Sam's possible happiness away, he'd surely played a part in him finding a new one, he thought as he watched him laughing and trying to get away from the hundredth bite of cake Gabe was giving him.

Castiel felt Dean's hand slip under his shirt and stroke his belly, making him ticklish, and he noticed his hidden feathers twitching. He felt Dean's hot breath on his neck and smiled.

"Cas?" he heard Dean's soft voice.

"Mmm?"

"Wanna go home?"

Castiel leaned back and placed a soft kiss on Dean's lips before he closed his eyes and smiled contently.

"I am home", he said, and for the first time in his life, it was true.


End file.
